#Furt in the Void

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐃𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚 || 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Do you want a baby? part one || Suddenly, we have a baby part two || part three

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ Miguel and you finally have a baby. Your little family attends Pavitr’s party. Things are not okay though . During Pavitr’s party, Miguel and you finally explode and everything is a chaos that night in Mumbattan.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ this is long, Miguel has men postpartum depression, grumpy! x sunshine!, age gap (legal), implied short reader, mentions of pregnancy and breastfeeding. NO PROOFREAD!

𝐀/𝐍_ <3 Indian culture and religions, inspired by M.I.A’s/ KSHMR songs, listen to Legendary Lovers from my playlist :)

♪ ♫ my miguel playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

One night, a young marriage lies on the wife's bed after a warm shower and a light dinner. Her round belly is getting more uncomfortable, but they happily wait for their little bundle of joy to arrive.

“Miguel?” you ask softly. He hums and looks down at you.

“Did you ever imagine you would be a father again?” it took him by surprise and pulled him out of reality. The image of Gabriella instantly appears.

However, his hand on your bump brings him back. He smiles, taking your growing belly with both hands, rubbing it up and down.

“Before you, not really. But the moment I married you, I kinda suspected it,” you giggle. Miguel smiles again before kissing your head, but you leave him thinking about the issue.

Somehow he wants to fill that void of his lost daughter. And while he knew he already had everything, trauma unconsciously haunted him.

“Do you want more kids?” He asks, and he hopes you say yes.

“I don’t know. As long we are okay, and the babies come healthy, I could have ten… Or just this little one,” you admit pressing your hand on his.

The man liked your answer, but the feeling of nervousness and a mix of panic and insecurity slowly started to grow bigger.

…

Miguel O’Hara was looking at his wife feeding his baby daughter; Magda O’Hara was about to turn five months old, and although she ate like a champion, she was still a tiny human.

You were sitting in the cafeteria, a lilac blanket covering your chest and the baby. Your eyes looked tired, your suit had a visible baby burp on the right shoulder, and your hair was very curly. However, there was a big smile on your face. A soft blush that made you sparkle and send the most motherly smile to your daughter.

Miguel smiles too, but he’s still watching, hiding behind a wall.

“Are you avoiding your wife and baby?” Lyla pops out of nowhere. Her heart-shaped sunglasses judge Miguel. He sighs, frowning at the AI.

“No.”

“I think you are,” she pushes.

“I think I’m not.”

“You are…” Miguel huffs in annoyance.

“NO. I being NOT,” Lyla shrugs, leaning to glimpse you and Magda. You are still feeding the baby.

“You know? One out of ten men get PPND after their baby is born” he had an idea of what the annoying AI was trying to imply; he wanted to ignore her for some seconds, but soon the worry assaulted him.

“What?”

“Paternal Postnatal Depression,” Miguel sighed. But then remembered how much he loved Magdalena, her round cheeks and dark hair like his, her tiny hands wrapped around his thumb every night. Then you, the kisses you spread over his face every time you greet him, his intense desire for you even when you claimed your body was slowly returning to what it was.

He wasn’t depressed; he was fine.

“Nonsense, Lyla. I’m fine” his tone was firm, confident, and intimidating. So the AI would not push it further.

“As you say, boss,” and with that, she disappeared.

When Miguel returned to see you and Magda, the cafeteria was full of spiders with lunch breaks, but you and the baby were gone.

…

Your boots with heels sound across the reports room of the HQ. Jess turns at the sound and smiles after seeing you. With a little wave, you pace toward her.

“Look at you, girly pop. If I didn’t know, I would say you have never been pregnant,” she explains with a big smile.

“Almost five months, Jess. I can’t believe it…” you admit, thinking about sweet baby Magda and her adorable yawns daily.

“I know, girl. My baby boy is almost a year now. Time flies…” Both of you nod. You start helping her with the reports.

Now you had been taking more missions and were happy to be back at work.

As you slide the pile of papers, Miguel stomps inside the room.

“What are you doing here?” He asks after spotting you beside Jess.

“Filling reports?” you don’t look at him, your eyes focused on the papers.

“You should be with Magda” His tone annoys you, finally pulling your eyes away from the papers and focusing on your husband.

“I spent the whole morning with her. She’s on daycare with Mayday and Peter” He rolled his eyes. And without another word, he sprint out of the room, leaving you very confused.

Jess kept staring at the door, where Miguel left but then turned to look at you.

“How has Miguel been dealing with parenthood?” you sigh.

“He’s amazing. He makes sure everything is fine with Magda and me. He also makes time to spend together, and…well, now I notice he’s stressed” Jess nodded, placing a new pile of paper on some shelves and opening a virtual screen to check the anomalies that had been reported.

“Maybe he’s…depressed?” her implication makes you break the focus on the report.

Having a baby was something big; you were okay, you felt amazing, just tired, but you felt healthy. However, even when you thought you had psyched Miguel that he was going to be a father again (with numerous methods. Like brief late-night talking, books, blowjobs, and fantastic sex). Maybe it wasn’t enough.

“You think he has it, right?”

“Maybe. Even if I tried to warn him, maybe…Yes.”

“I’ve known him since college, y/n. He’s a good man who loves you and that gorgeous baby girl so much. But he’s Miguel, and his damaged side will never leave.” It would never stop to amaze you how much Miguel changed after the events of Gabriella and her universe collapsing. You had to meet him just after that happened, so you would never know the man he was before that.

“However, you are his new chapter and a new chance to be better again. Just try to talk to him…” Her hand on your shoulder makes you feel supported. You smile, nodding at her.

“Thanks, Jess. I highly appreciate it.”

“Of course, girl. Now let’s finish these damn papers to have a break” a little less worried about Miguel, both Jess, and you had a good moment laughing and finishing the reports.

…

“Dear empress?” You roll your eyes, turning to your right to spot Lyla.

“Why do you call me like that?” You ask, laughing, chewing at your burger. Once again, a meal with your husband’s mask imprinted on the bun was a good idea.

“You are my boss’s wife, and Magda is the legitimate heir to the HQ” Again, you laugh. Lyla was funny and sweet; you really liked her and the dynamic she had with Miguel.

“To be an AI on earth-928, you are using medieval terms, Lyla,” she giggles.

“No, but Peter called. Magda woke up and demanded your company” You can’t even find yourself mad or annoyed. Your baby needed you after three hours separated.

Thankfully, you had taken a shower after the mission you had. Magda couldn’t be held with toxic particles and lizard’s spit.

“I’m on my way,” Lyla pretends to high-five you before opening the door of the balcony area where you were eating.

…

Soft cries flood the big daycare room. Lyla and you exchange looks before she speaks.

“Yikes, that’s my cue, bye bye” With that, she disappears.

When you open the door, you see Peter Pavitr, Gwen, and Miles showing baby Magda some toys to stop her from crying. Mayday is beside her, sitting, looking confused.

The closer you look, the better you can see Magda in a short sleeves onesie and her matted hair hidden under a little flower diadem.

“Oh, look, Magda. Mama is here,” Peter tells your kid. She’s very tiny, yet active to be four months old. Your eyes light up after taking her in your arms.

“Hi Bebé, I missed you so much,” Magda coos and plays with her little fists.

“Thank you so much for entertaining her, guys,” you tell your friends. They say it’s nothing. But you feel loved and welcomed, how well they treated your baby, and how much effort they made to include her even at her young age.

“It’s nothing. But… now you owe me in particular,” Pavitr says with a smile. You wonder what he wants. But then, he pulls out a pink envelope with orange and golden details and hands it to you.

“Happy Diwali season…” Immediately, you remember the party he mentioned months ago when you were still pregnant.

“Pavitr! This is so sweet, thank you” he offered a hug, which you accepted.

Few people dared to spread love like anything, and Pav was one of them.

“I want to see your little family there. And all of your too,” the guy threats smiley. Instant happiness succumbs you because you can’t wait to be at that party.

It was rare when you had the opportunity to hang out with every one of your HQ friends. Jess, Peter, and Mayday are the most recurrent since Miguel was very close to them as they were to you.

“I’ll bring my best clothes, man,” Peter calls before Pavitr leaves through a portal.

“I’m so excited!” You squeal along, Gwen.

Peter rolls his eyes, taking care of Mayday.

“We need some traditional dresses,” you comment.

“Oh, and we have to get Mayday and Magda matching dresses” The thought makes you die out of cuteness. Even Peter seems happy, claiming he will take many pictures if MJ can’t make it.

It has been a long time since you had a big party to attend.

The parties with your family were small gatherings where Miguel would likely get drunk with your father. Your mother and grandma would help you with Magda, and you had to be active.

So yeah, you were excited to celebrate Diwali with your friends and family.

…

That night, you are cooking some tray of peaches with cream muffins and jericallas, Miguel’s favorite desserts. Magda is sleeping in the pink carrier you bought for her and you (cause Miguel refused to wear every single day that carrier he got a grey one).

Dinner was quiet, which was weird in the past, but slowly grew normal.

You had wanted to ask Miguel about his possible PPND, but he always brushed it off before you could start.

Learning to look at the oven, there are five minutes left. You go to Magda’s room to put her in the crib.

You take some minutes to see her. She’s a carbon copy of Miguel. The sun-kissed skin, the dark hair, and you suspected she would have his spider abilities rather than yours. Oh, and her round puffy cheeks that you constantly filled with kisses.

You loved being a mother.

You preferred your own house on your earth; it was smaller, cozier, and homey.

And Miguel’s place was… an expansive apartment with minimalist colors and designs. It was still home… but not the same.

Still, you loved your family. No matter where you were.

So you clean the kitchen as the muffins cool off.

Miguel spent the whole evening locked in his lab. Claiming that he was finishing a new device for the HQ. Which you believed at the beginning, but soon you felt like he didn’t want to spend time with you, Magda, leaving the baby and yourself to play and read alone.

So you remembered what Jess said. Maybe Miguel was depressed or having a mix of emotions after Magda arrived.

Slowly, you open the door of the lab. He’s sitting, back facing you. He looks massive, being slightly hunched to work.

“Corazón…” you call him; he doesn’t flinch.

Miguel sees through the corner of his eye your silhouette, holding something.

A little plate, a jericalla, and a muffin slide in front of his face.

The smell of peaches and cream cheese invaded him. The small was enough to set him in a better mood.

“I made your favorites…” he knows he’s not the best husband material. But he was constantly irritated, and the last he wanted was to take it out on you or Magda. He would kill himself if something like that happened.

“Oh, mu��eca. You didn’t have to “

“Yes, I had to… Miguel?… Are you okay?” You ask shyly, honestly scared of his reaction.

“What do you mean?”

“Lately… you’ve been weird. Is the work too much? I can take more; the master's program is basically finished. I have time, and with Magda-“ you want to find an answer before he even answers.

“Magda should be your priority.”

“She is. But I’m concerned about you too.”

“I’m fine.” You sigh. It wouldn’t be easy, you knew that.

“Just… you must know you can tell me anything, amor. I’m your wife…” his tense shoulders relax when you hug him from behind.

“I know that, mami.” A little smile peaks on your face, so you lean down to kiss your husband’s cheek.

He giggles before capturing your hands to give you a proper kiss.

“We love you so much, Miguel,” you add one last time.

“I love you and Magda too” Another little peck, and you're out of his lab.

Only that you tried to ignore the pain in your throat as tears threatened to spill as you lay in bed, waiting for him to come.

…

The sound of a phone taking pictures hits Miguel. When he enters the main bedroom of your house, he sees you in a traditional Indian gown in hot pink and orange colors, along with gold details.

He can’t help but think that his wife is perfect and that you gave him the best present ever; a daughter.

“Look at you, Magda!. You look gorgeous, my love,” she coos, stretching in the bed while chewing her feet. It makes you laugh, and Miguel feels relaxed.

You are taking pictures of Magda, and when Miguel gets closer, he sees his daughter in a colorful linen dress.

You turn to face your husband. Surprised to see him smiling.

“Look, Miguel. She’s totally ready for this party,” he finds himself sighing.

“Do we really need to go?” If you had to be honest, things with Miguel weren’t their best.

He continued to act desperate, less soft, and constantly irritated.

Last night, it didn’t work out.

He was fucking you on your back, but he was being rough. And not the type of wild you liked. It was rough where. You felt like a rag doll like it wasn’t lovemaking.

“Mig-Miguel. Can… Can we stop?” He had been so close, seconds away from painting your walls with cum. But you asked him to stop. That never happened.

“…Why?” He asked, confused and slightly angered.

“You’re hurting me…” it tears him. But the irritating demon creeped out for worse.

“Right, sorry. It won’t happen again,” without another word, he slipped out of you, locking you inside the bathroom and leaving you heavily confused.

Before last night, things had been like a rollercoaster, with ups and downs. They only didn’t make sense to you because you couldn’t understand your husband. He was taking care of pushing you away, and you were starting to feel hurt.

“It’ll be fun; it could help us to have a little escapade” he knows you want things to be better. But it seemed like the more you tried, the more he got frustrated. He was starting to believe Lyla about having PPND. And it scares him so much, already afraid of hurting you and Magda. So he had been a little secluded to avoid that.

In his mind, it was a good idea. But sure, it was not the best option.

“Fine. Do you want me to wear something specific?” His question made you pout.

“Just this…” you hand him a linen shirt in a cream tone. He sighed but surprised you by taking Magda in his arms and leaning to snuggle with you. Her tiny lips latched onto your neck, searching for milk, and Miguel peppered your cheeks with kisses. You started laughing at the tickles.

“Miguel! Stop!” You cry, laughing.

“Tell Mama she looks beautiful, Magda,” feeling her matted hair, your warms lips.

Of course, there were still some good moments. Like having a moment together, the three of you. Where there was only love in the air.

Miguel knew he had to change. He couldn’t lose his family.

Not again…

…

Whenever there was an anomaly on Pavitr’s earth, you would gladly stay longer than necessary. The colorful and loud city was always a sight.

But seeing the party he had spent months discussing was still a surprise.

There was a big rooftop with stone railings and details. Many plants partially covered the floor and every surface available.

And the colorful decorations in fuchsia and purple tones were breathtaking.

The Festival of Lights was the most exciting part for you. It reminded you of the movie of Tangled and how much you loved that movie.

The whole meaning of Diwali was beautiful, and having the opportunity to celebrate it with the locals, with your family, was even more special.

“This is beautiful…” you mumble, a big smile growing as you carry Magda. She seems attracted to the music and people talking around.

“Miguel! y/n!” Both of you turn around to see Peter and Mayday.

“AWW!” You let out once your daughter is reunited with Mayday. Both have the same linen dress, only that Mayday has her hair in a messy bun, and Magda… well, she was losing hair.

“They look adorable, Peter” Miguel says nothing, but he wants to smile so badly.

“I know; MJ took a whole album of her.”

“I can bet…” you add smiley. Peter looks at Miguel, and the tall and broad man looks annoyed, which makes him sigh.

“You look good, man,” Peter tries to soothe the strange air.

“Thanks.” It’s flat and cold. You are starting to feel anxious about Miguel and his consent mood swings.

“Man, you have to be happy. You are here with your gorgeous baby and wife. Smile…” You are surprised and thankful for your friend, not expecting him to speak.

To your dismay, Pavitr appears to say hi, but it’s not the best moment.

“Not now, Peter. You don’t know anything; stay away from this. It’s my family,” you frown, not liking Miguel’s tone. You and Pavitr exchanged looks before you turned to face your angry husband.

“Miguel, What’s wrong with you? Peter says it for good” he looks down at you, shocked to hear that you are not on his side.

“You’re letting him discuss our problems now?” To make the moment more stressful, Jess comes too; she looks confused at the scene but soon understands what is happening.

“What he said is obvious to everyone, Miguel. You’ve been off; we want you to be yourself again.”

“I am okay!” some people stare when your husband raises his voice.

“Miguel…” Jess warns him, hoping to avoid a bigger problem.

You came to a limit. All the weeks of dealing with an unstable husband, taking care of Magda on your own, working your part as a head of the spider society.

Indeed, you didn’t care that your friends were hearing.

“No, you’re not. You have been avoiding us!. We are your family, Miguel. If you weren’t sure of having a wife and kid again, you should have said it sooner.”

Ohh… everyone grows quiet. Peter holds your shoulder with his free hand, and Pavitr can’t believe what is happening.

“Don’t…” it’s all he says, but you cut him off.

“Maybe you’ve found someone else. Cause you’re rejecting Magda and clearly me. You don’t come home early; it certainly looks as if you were fucking someone else” Your baby is getting fussy, and your fears grow the more you talk. Now only waiting for his response.

“Yeah? Do you really think that low of me? Maybe I should go and make it real!” his words tear you a little. Making it impossible to not start tearing up.

Miguel realized what he had said when he heard Magda crying.

And he looked at you again; you were also crying.

He’s so embarrassed.

“Please take her for some minutes…” you say, handing Magda to Jess. The woman nods with a sad face.

And everyone looks at how you leave the party.

“I’ll go find her; please let me…” Pavitr tells Miguel, but he only stands there looking like an asshole.

“You’re right…” Miguel tells Peter, with his back facing him.

“I just want you and her to be happy.…” your husband nods, and Peter takes it as an apology and understanding of him.

“Can we talk?” Jess asks. Miguel knows he’s in trouble.

Both adults walk through the people to the most secluded area. Which seems to be a little garden.

“Do you want this baby?” Jess asks him, referring to the sleepy Magda in her arms.

“Or was it just for the lust of getting y/n pregnant?” It’s straight to the point, and it terrifies Miguel.

“Jess, you know I’ve always wanted a family,” he answers calmly.

“Then why the drama?. Everything seemed fine the whole pregnancy.”

“Lyla was right. I think I have PPND…” Jess sighed in relief because at least Miguel had an idea of his problem.

“That’s what I thought.” She replied.

“And now with this…I don’t wanna lose my girls” To hear Miguel in a vulnerable state was unusual. His eyes went straight to Magda. He walked closer to stroke her cheek.

He felt like a monster for what he did.

“You won’t lose them, Miguel. Everyone knows this baby, and y/n are beyond in love with you” Magdalena was his gift. And Miguel would always thank you for that.

The least he could do was be a supportive father and good husband.

“Go and talk with y/n. Then we can enjoy this peaceful party. It is almost time for the Festival of Lights” Miguel remembers how excited you were to see the lights. He worries that he won’t find you in time. Jess places a hand on his shoulder.

“Go. I’ll take care of Magda with Peter” The exit is crowded, so he hurries.

The streets are packed, people are celebrating, and some fireworks start.

Miguel ventures into the busy streets in hopes of finding you.

…

When Pavitr finds you, you are sitting on the long stairs that were the entrance of a temple. Your knees are pressed to your chest, your face hiding, and he can hear you sobbing.

“Oh… y/n,” he says, sitting beside you and hugging you. You are startled, but soon you are calmed to see your friend.

“I’m sorry for ruining the vibe of your party, Pav” He shakes his head, smiling.

“Nah, first of all, it’s my parent’s party. Second of all, nobody noticed what happened.”

“This was supposed to be a beautiful night. Not the start of the end of my marriage.”

“It’s not the end of your marriage, y/n. I can read people very well. Miguel and you hold an excellent dharma” You lift your head, looking at your friend. He offers you a kind smile that makes you feel comfortable.

“Call me ignorant, but what is specifically dharma?”

“It means a lot of things in my religion. But in this case, it means you and your husband have good energy. The connection is strong; there’s a balance that holds the love. And all of that is what Magda receives. This is just a bad season…” you analyze his words, trying to accept them.

“Then why do I feel like it’s not my fault? I feel that he needs to apologize…”

“Oh, because he does need to apologize. What he said was wrong. Even if he’s the one having a bad emotional moment, he caused this” It’s incredible how easy it was for Pavitr to understand when he was still a late teenager, only a couple of years younger than you, but wiser.

“Thank you, Pavitr,” he nods, hugging you again.

“Now come back, please. Gwen and Miles have been looking for you.”

“I’ll go. I need some minutes.”

He smiles one last time before leaving you alone again.

You sigh, and more tears spill, but quietly.

For a second, you don’t want to think about anything; you stare a the street in front of you.

The people laugh, scream, and look happy. A lot of them have the little lights in their hands already.

You try to savor the moment, so you sigh and breathe with your eyes closed, letting more tears run down your cheeks.

You could either fight for you and the love of your life and daughter… or move on, even if it was early to say it.

You don’t come to an answer because when you open your eyes, Miguel is on the stairs, going straight to you.

You’re startled, unconsciously standing up. You know you can’t enter the temple but you want to be away from Miguel.

He’s fast enough to stop you, grabbing your forearm.

“No. Not right now, Miguel,” you say firmly, with a broken voice.

“Wait. Please, bonita…” he hates to see you like that.

Finding you alone, crying on those stairs when everyone was happy and celebrating, was painful to him. Even more when he was the cause of it.

“I don’t want this night to be over with us fighting, please.”

You don’t say anything. You stare at him as he stays some steps under; you have him straight face to face.

“I didn’t mean anything I said before. I would never find someone else. Never, y/n” You remember his words.

Maybe I should go and make it real.

“That’s how it starts…” you say coldly. He shakes his head, grabbing both of your cheeks.

“No. No, mi amor… I only have eyes for you, and that’s how it’ll remain for the rest of my life,” he means it. Miguel fell in love with you one summer, months after meeting you. And from the day he accepted he was in love, the feeling never changed; it only increased.

“I must have… men postpartum depression” Immediately, you’re relieved. Because you had your suspicions, knowing that was the reason for the little downgrade of marriage soothed your worries about him cheating.

“Why have you always avoided it?.” You ask him. He only sighs, his hands leaving your cheeks to land on your shoulders.

“I don’t know. I guess I just… didn’t want to believe it?” you know he’s telling the truth. Miguel never lied; if he ever did, he would never babble. But he was looking defeated, showing vulnerability.

“It was stupid. I should have told you… agh, ¿soy un pendejo, no?” You nod, looking at him in the eye. Savoring his embarrassment, but not in a toxic way. You appreciated that he was recognizing his errors.

“We’ve talked about… Gabriella and what happened. But, now that Magda is finally here… I got scared again” It’s inevitable to not grow fond of him. He was guilty but also a victim of his own mind. And it was your role to help him.

“We’re not going anywhere, Miguel. I Can assure you that this family will last forever. Because I won’t let anything happen,” sometimes Miguel forgot that he married a brave young woman. Who showed him what he thought was lost in the world. And gave him a daughter to heal his past and grow better.

“I’d be lost without you and Magdalena, corazón. I’m so sorry for making you think otherwise.”

“And I’m sorry for not pressuring you to get help,” he smiles.

“No, y/n. You’ve done nothing wrong but being the most lovely and perfect mother and wife ever,” you blush. And Miguel will never stop loving his power to make you feel loved and blushed.

“Will you forgive me?”

“Are you going to the doctor?” He nods, so you sigh.

“And promise that this will NEVER ever happen again, Miguel O’Hara. Swear it…” he chuckles, but he knows it’s serious.

“I swear, this will never happen again. I swear it for my love for my wife and daughter”.

You smile, and that’s all Miguel needs to move his hands one last time. To your waist, to pull you closer.

As he hugs you, he enjoys the smell of your hair. That watermelon shampoo you loved to use. He’s at home.

“How can I begin with my apology?” He asks.

“Just hold me. Never… never, Miguel. Never let me go” his eyes get watery, and immediately his hands find their way to hold you, brush your hips, and lay his head on top of yours.

“I’m never letting go of the woman that saved my life” Tears flow across your face, but a smile grows too. No matter Miguel’s walls' height, you had all the power to crash them, and for the best.

“I love you, bonita,” you nod, sobbing and giggling simultaneously. Squeezed in his arms, you lift your head and smash his lips.

It’s warm, slow, and sweet. Both of you have flashbacks of the first kiss you shared. And it fueled the love, making the kiss even more adorable.

“I love you too. So, so much…” Between every so, you kiss his cheeks. It tingles him, so he laughs.

“Stop it, Nena” For some seconds, you stare at each other in silence, feeling the love slowly returning to reign.

You are thankful for having a husband like him. Someone who had problems like everyone else but would always stand up for his family and try to make everything better.

“Hear me out. I’ll never be able to give you back, Gabriella. But Magda and I will love and cherish you for her. This has been a big change for us, never forget that, Miguel” Magda was his light, just like you were the dawn he enjoyed every day. But the dread of his past wasn’t ready to leave yet. Nothing would compare to the time he had with Gabriella, but nothing would change the fact that she was gone.

“I’ll get over that someday. But now I have my girls, and it’s perfect. Simply perfect…” there was something about you that Miguel wouldn’t trade for anything. You gave him happiness, comfort, and a daughter.

The canon never warned him that you would appear, yet, there you were, willing to listen and help him. Even after all…

“I like the sound of that…. I can schedule an appointment with Doctor Spider-Man. He knows everything…”

“Yeah, that would be fine. I also think we should have a second honeymoon” Your eyes widen.

“What? Really?”

The first honeymoon was a fever dream. Almost a month in Oaxaca, in a boutique historic hotel, and fantastic food, outside activities, and… tons of sex. Thankfully you were cautious with protection, cause otherwise, Magda would have been a honeymoon baby.

“Yeah. Or we could have our first family trip. Magda is young enough to still make it pass as a second honeymoon” his playful tone makes you aware of what he meant, and it burns your cheeks.

“I’m also sorry about what happened last time we were…”

“I know,” you quickly answer.

“I would never waste the opportunity again. If I could go back in time, I would have apologized better and rewarded you with a big orgasm,” you laugh, punching his rock-hard chest.

“Miguel, shut up!. We’re at the entrance of a temple” he looks with curiosity and realizes it is true.

“Shit. Sorry… okay. Can we go back to the party?” You nod, and you gladly take it when he offers his hand.

…

When you make it back. The Festival of Lights is starting. Jess hurries and looks between you and him.

“Everything alright?” You nod.

“Thank you so much, Jess,” she says. It’s nothing, handing you a smiley Magda, who happily coos at you and Miguel.

The man smiles at her, kisses her hair, and takes her little hand.

“Oh, I got some perfect spots,” she adds. The balcony's edge is where a lake looks like a mirror with lights.

Peter, Hobie, Gwen, and Miles gather with you and your family.

But Pavitr leans closer.

“I told you it was all about the dharma you two hold,” the young man says, pointing at you and Michel.

Your husband frowns, confused.

“Dharma?”

“I’ll explain it later, man,” Pavitr answers smiley, leaving.

Miguel takes Magda in his arms, and he feels better; the light weight of his daughter and your head resting on his bicep was everything he needed as everyone watched the lights go up and illuminate the sky.

It was time to let go of his past at all. His present was right in his arms, and you were right.

As he would fight to keep his family, Miguel knew you would too, and that was a lot to say.

___________________________________

Sends ideas / requests 4 Miguel. I’m planning something based on hummingbird (I love that song so much) <3.

I’m seeing Taylor Swift tomorrow SEND HELP OMG :0

Taglist: @obi-mom-kenobi @g0oshtt @berlinswifey @alison645 @futuristicpandakid @sleepyoriana @amb3rrz @amyg1509 @t00-pi @crowleysthings @boobabietch @l3lazee @brtodd @gigachadcowboy @saturnknows @chiyoyooo @miggyyyyohara @puresweetenerx @saturnnnnl @natthernandez @reagan707 @voidashh @daisydark @kissezfornamjoon @etherealton @wonderlandangelsposts @niyanispunk @ang3l-dust1 @electro-supremacy @bestie1223 @dangerousness15 @iluvjisoo @atlaincorrect @naponiac @edgycatx @fluffy-koalala

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara angst #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #atsv x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman

[mat501st]

My fan made Space Marine chapter

My fanmade Space Marine chapter Unidas Somos Furtes aka United we are strong

During the Horus heresy, this chapter was flung into the far reaches of the universe by the chaos gods in an attempt to keep the imperium of man divided.

Unlike the other chapters, this chapter believed that compassion was a strength, not a weakness. Instead of instantly going into combat with the Eldar, Orcs, Drukhari, Tau, Leagues of Votann, and even the Necrons, they would try to negotiate and make peace with them.

They beleived that the forces of chaos and the Tyranids were the greatest threats to the imperium, and only when we are united could we stop them.

Besides negotiations, this chapter would also seek to recover secrets of the past. Uncovering relics, ancient technology, forgotten knowledge, and so on. As such, this chapter has been able to help the God Empereror rebuild much of the imperium the long lost knowledge of old. Inlcuding the tech that would've allowed humanity to travel w/o relying on traveling through the void. This is why the chaos gods wanted to keep them away.

Recently, after a long and treacherous journey, the chapter has returned to the imperium. While some of the chapters welcomed their lost brothers, others are distrustful of this chapter. The adeptus mechanicus of course welcomed them after seeing how much tech the chapter brought with them.

Besides their standard gear, this chapter would also equip its members with various high tech weapons and armor from either abadoned tech or what was negiated from other races. This chapter would also allow members of other races join as a sub chapter known as the Ojos abiertos. Eyes open.

The primary colors of this chapter would consist of orange, green, and white. Taking inspiration from a long forgotten holiday called Dia de los Muertos. Thus, they have various skeleton like designs on their armor. As well as names of chapter members who had died from both natural and unnatural causes. So that the chapter never forgets its past.

#w40k #warhammer 40k #fan made #space marines

[measuringbliss]

<3

OKAY THAT'S SO NOT FAIR!!!

I wrote a video script on Edelgard (specifically why I find her fascinating but also why as bisexual representation, she doesn't escape the usual "queer=evil" trope inherited from the Hays Code, which feels weird to talk about for a Japanese game but the American soft power probably shaped at least slightly some cultural expectations around the world and also, people didn't wait for the Hays Code to demonize sexy people)

Anyway I think I'm too lazy to actually turn it into a video? I'm not in the most rationally bestest of places to edit a video right now. I'll see what I do with it.

I didn't want to rant about that though

I want to ramble about Glee but I actually have no idea what to say because the fandom as it currently is feels... very weak.

Weak in multiple ways:

- lack of content. I guess it was more popular on LiveJournal, but I just can't find much stuff on Tumblr. That's what I miss from the Harry Potter fandom, you had multiple repositories for meta, you had multiple places for discussion, even your local language community was probably pretty well developed. Was some of the meta reaching? Absolutely! But it was fun, and there was A LOT. Fanfic wise, there was so much choice, and there still is! Obviously, there's still a lot, but it doesn't feel the same with the author just insisting on being a pain. I was invested in that fandom, and there was *always* new stuff coming out. Even your rarepair had GOOD content. It's something that is thoroughly lacking with the Glee fandom, even though it had a huge presence. Nowadays, only two ships have any visibility on Tumblr and that is Klaine and Brittana. Which, great! Gay canon couples, we stan, whatever. But as soon as you step outside of this, it is THE VOID. Good luck finding one (1) satisfying fic for your ship. I had to resort to using ffnet for the first time in years to find interesting stuff! *FFNET!!!* And I do realize that both source materials are completely different and HP lent itself much more to analysis and mysteries and stuff. Whatever you think about She Who Must Not Be Named, HP inspired a lot of us to just... write! I have a novel-length HP fanfic that I just kept wanting to write for, and even though I eventually gave up and wrote a summary of the last few chapters, it inspired me in spite of my ADHD. Nowadays I'm not inspired except for horny stuff, because I'm a horny gremlin. There hasn't been any other fandom like it, and a lot of works deserve much more than what they get. Even awful movies deserve people writing meta and stuff. But fandom on Tumblr is chaotic af and HP motivated a lot of people to create communities around it, specifically for HP. It's something that we'll probably never get again and it's sad.

- so yeah the Glee fandom feels weak firstly because there's practically no content. The second thing and I touched on it a little bit, is that the content isn't varied at all. Only two ships are considered, and the activity is almost exclusively gifs sharing. I've seen the show, I know what they look like!!!! I guess Tumblr was key in making gifs a major component of fannish activities but I'm pretty much not sensible to that. There's a few metas out there but even then it's only for those couples. And I know that the Glee community used to be huge and DIVERSE, because the show itself mentions several times SHIP NAMES and in particular, Faberry is joked about in later seasons even though it's not canonical (notably with Kitty saying something like "If you're going to go all lesbo, get it on with Quinn, I heard that the whole world is cheering for you") . Like, "Furt" (Finn/Kurt) is mentioned in S2. Season 2!!!! There was a big fandom and it got so loud that the show kept referencing it (and fanservicing it, hello to the Quinntana hookup, a surprise to be sure but a welcome one). But this content is nowhere to be seen. Ffnet is the main hint that there was something, but Tumblr is empty. I guess they were all on LiveJournal? I know there were heavy ship wars (Brittany literally mentions IN THE SHOW that she can't get with Sam or Artie–I don't remember whom– because there's hords of fangirls who ship her with Santana and they'd make his life hell) and I understand how these conflicts could sour people on the show (hello Hannibal Twitter fandom from 2020 or 2021) but it's still so weird to expect to be able to interact with resources and reflections and even just reviews... and you don't find anything. It's weird! I had the same issue with Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but

1. Actual books have been written about Buffy and its fandom and there's a term for that kind of stuff, Buffystudies I think.

2. Buffy aired as the modern conception of Internet started setting in, so fandoms didn't have such centralized spaces and I understand it can be difficult to find them today. It was still very lovely to stumble upon that Spike/Xander fanfic archive.

Also, Buffy had naturally more interesting stuff to think about because it was, from the start, shrouded in prophecies, metaphors, and the likes.

Glee fanfics are all about their Starbucks AU. I'm exaggerating, but also kind of not? Not judging on these AUs, but it's not something I seek out.

So lack of content, and lack of varied content. I have nowhere to go to talk about Furt, Seblaine (well Seblaine does have its fans here) and so on. The Glee fandom also seems to be VERY homogenous. Everyone hates Will Schuester because he's a creep. Everyone hates Finn because he outed Santana. Everyone hates Finchel because they're Finchel. Everyone loves Furt, "but only as friendship". "The S4 newbies suck." "Shooting Star is an awful episode." "Sue should be in jail." and so on and you just see THE SAME. DAMN. OPINIONS. EVERYWHERE.

(Doesn't help that the show itself never knows if it's honest or satire, and YOU CAN'T EXPECT THE SAME THINGS FROM BOTH. Yes, Sue never goes to jail. YES, WILL IS INAPPROPRIATE. THAT'S THE POINT. DO YOU KNOW MANY TEACHERS WHO STASHED DRUGS IN A STUDENT'S LOCKER JUST SO THAT THE STUDENT WOULD PARTICIPATE IN THE GLEE CLUB?! OF COURSE NOT. OH MY GOD. People always talk about realism with this show and you motherfuckers, HANNIBAL IS A MORE REALISTIC SHOW THAN GLEE. Outside of being homogenous, Glee discourse is so asinine. The writing is so inconsistent that wildly different interpretations of the characters are completely possible. I–Ugh! Fiction discourse is already bad most of the time, but if you don't get how the source material prevents you from applying real-life values to it, your media literacy is pretty damn low. I will concede and repeat that the show's writing didn't do it any favor. Even the first episode never knows if it's a parody or a heartfelt drama. Goddamnit.

The show is still entertaining by the way.)

I feel like it's the kind of fandom where different opinions were shushed or something because EVERYWHERE, I see the same exact comments. Oddly enough, the Glee subreddit seems to be the current healthiest place for the fandom? Which is weird because you know. It's Reddit.

Like I don't know, with the Hannibal fandom you could (before The Event) totally say that Hannibal (the character) sucks, that Hannibal is great, that S3 is totally the worst, or the best, that Will/Brian is more compelling that Hannigram, etc. There was some kind of lightness where people didn't care too much and there was a lot of weird (and lovely, because weird is good) stuff and VARIETY.

The Buffy fandom has more defined mindsets (you're either Team Bangel or Team Spuffy, either you love S6 or you hate it, but everyone agrees that S7 sucked to some degree) partly due to its age, but there's still a variety of content. Hell, there was a lot of stuff that was discussed and envisioned that would get you harassed for years if you so much as talked about it today.

I don't know, I feel like fandom sucks nowadays.

Well seems like I had a lot of things to say, in the end.

#Asks

[vcg73]

Witch!Kurt #40 - Follow the Love

Your eyes do not deceive you!  After something like three months and one complete rewrite once I finally decided that the dark crap I was writing was not where I wanted to go, here is a new chapter. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

Almost immediately, Kurt sensed that this venture into the Void would be different from his first.

 The last time he had been here, he had not been fully conscious of shifting out of the physical realm until he detected the first spark of Adam’s lifeline and threw himself towards it. He had felt an odd sensation then, like floating weightless in a dream, except that he had known he was still awake.

 This was more like walking into a strange room, only to have the door slam shut behind him and then the floor fall away beneath his feet. But like before, the connection with his coven kept him from getting lost in the darkness, giving him reassurance that he was indeed tethered to the real world and that there was a safety net ready to catch if he should lose his way.

 Trying to remember how it felt when he was levitating, he forced himself to take a deep breath, picturing his lungs filling and emptying, and almost immediately the initial sensation of panic ebbed away. He was fine, he was in control, and he could do this.

 He began to sense his physical body again, able to register the slight sting of the knot-work pendant digging into his palm where he was clenching his fingers tight against it, to sense his fellow witches surrounding and supporting him. He reached out his senses and found that he could identify Sam and the trio of Familiars that guarded them both. After a moment, he recognized that Elliott had reached out to rub a hand across his shoulders. He could not precisely feel the touch, he wasn’t even sure it was physically there given that his friend had been in cat form when he left, but he knew that at least emotionally it was real, and he took comfort from that.

 He could also feel Adam, away at the very edge of his consciousness, willing him the strength to go forward and not let the emptiness of the Void overtake him. Kurt concentrated on the web, giving each of the magical strings a little ‘pluck’ to signal that he was okay. Almost at once, he felt an answering vibration of relief and encouragement.

 Reassured that he had backup if anything went wrong, Kurt began to move forward through the darkness, and after a while he began to notice that it was not so much a lack of light that surrounded him as simply a deep gray nothingness, distracted by occasional flickers. A tiny flash of light here, a bit of color there, a blur of motion distracting him out of the corner of his mind’s eye.  

 He wondered what those were. Surely there couldn’t be a lot of people trapped in pockets of space/time, right? So then what was he sensing?

 A vague vibration of humor flashed through his mind, one that he identified as Sebastian. And then he understood. As he acclimated to this place, he was detecting the passage of other lives passing through the In-Between. Teleporters, Familiars, maybe even regular cats since he had been told they also had the power to use this space at will.

 It helped him clarify his mission. He would not be searching what amounted to an otherworldly subway system. He had to look for someone who might be trapped on an empty platform, waiting for a train that would never come.

 Well, that was a terribly depressing thought.

 Still, he knew that time moved differently here, so if Finn was indeed stuck in this place and waiting for him, he might not be as aware of the passage of time as Adam had been.

 Kurt had spoken at length with both his coven and his friend Troy about how assorted powers and castings worked. Kurt’s own power and his ease with magic had grown exponentially in the months since his first venture into the Void, and he knew now that doing Major Workings often resulted in time-slips as a result of so much raw power being pulled to a single location. So while Blaine was anything but a master spell-crafter, he would have been dumping a hell of a lot of energy – taken from god knew how many unwitting donors – into the Void when he shot his magical blast at Finn.  And if Finn had countered with some sort of instinctive defense, his developing Telekinesis could easily have sling-shot him somewhere he could escape, someplace he might feel safe.

 Of course, being flung completely out of his body would have fucked that plan up pretty royally, but the idea was sound.

 Tubbington had been confident that physical distance held no importance in this place, but cats tended to see the world differently from humans. To L.T., one simply entered the In-Between space at one point and came out wherever they wished to be. But for human Teleporters it was different. Adam’s father could jump thousands of miles in a blink, even if he was carrying several other people and going to a place he’d never been before. Santana was limited to familiar locations. Elliott, though a Familiar, was only strong enough to transport a single extra person, and he required a point of reference.

 Kurt was not a proper Teleporter at all.  He had enough that he could sense and navigate non-physical realms, but for him it was like driving along a dark highway with no maps or road-signs to guide him.

 “Finn?” he called, as he had been doing periodically since he started. He did not really expect a response, but he was unwilling to take the chance of not at least trying the obvious. “Finn, can you hear me? It’s Kurt. I’ve come to bring you home. Finn?”

 Nothing.

 He had to think about this differently.  Part of him had been expecting Finn’s soul to react to his touch the way Adam’s had, but Adam had already been an experienced witch when he was projected to this place. He had had a physical body and at least some awareness of Kurt in the real world.

 Finn would not have that advantage. He had not even known what was happening when his power began randomly manifesting, assuming the coven’s theory was accurate, and even if he had figured out his plight somehow, he certainly wouldn’t be aware that Kurt had the power to magically come to his rescue.

 When Kurt was learning to separate his Talents, Adam had told him to identify each piece individually, to recognize them one by one before trying to blend them together. So what if he could do that here?  If he could reach out and separate the threads of magic interwoven into the pendant he was holding, then maybe he could simply separate Finn’s thread and use it as a sort of divining rod to find the rest of him.

 It took a long time, but finally Kurt gasped. Had he detected a faint pulse?

 Touching the gossamer thread of Finn’s lifeline as gently as a raindrop rolling along spider-silk, he willed it to unwind further and take him where he needed to go.

 ~*~*~*~*~

 Ohio.  

 Kurt was not surprised at all to recognize that he had suddenly jumped to somewhere in his home state. He couldn’t see the surrounding views, but he knew it as surely as he knew his own name. Just as he knew that he was somehow picking up speed.

He found himself zipping through long empty spaces, some of them dark, some light, and the interruptions by those flashes of color and light were growing more frequent. He had at some point decided to concentrate on emotion rather than physically searching for his brother, and immediately felt a shift inside himself.

 So much power was coursing through him that it felt like being struck by a lightning bolt of pure sensation. He understood now what the combination of his recent Joining and the High Magic of Valentine’s Day had to offer. He was picking up pieces of other people’s feelings as he traveled, so many shots of love hitting him from every direction; platonic, sexual, friendship, family; not all of it happy or clearly expressed, but every bit of it full of pure undiluted emotion.

 It was dizzying and a little addictive.

 He reached out again to his coven, needing their steadying influence, and felt the Familiar trio guiding him back to his path, giving him a helping hand through the confusion.

 Think, Kurt.

 Using the overwhelming emotion as an amplifier, he concentrated on the essence of his lost brother, letting his own love take the lead. Emotional instinct was his best and truest gift as both a witch and a human being and he needed to let it guide him.

 There!  There it was again. That faint answer to his call. It was not so much words as just a feeling of “?”, “!”, and finally “…”

 Kurt grabbed on to that small reply and threw himself towards it. He gasped when he abruptly saw one of the sparks coming right at his face, raising his arms in instinctive defense, only to find himself then bumping into a very solid wooden door and landing on his ass on a very real wooden floor covered in rich Oriental carpeting.

 He was, to all sensory evidence, back in his physical body and occupying a corridor that he knew very well though he had not seen it for several years. Not sure what else to do, he got to his feet and knocked on the red-stained cherry wood door. The door obligingly swung inward and he found himself entering the common room where he used to like studying when he was a student at Dalton Academy. The small one with the fireplace and comfortable sofas where he and Blaine had sung their first duet one long ago Christmas.

 And he was not alone, though his companion this time was not his teenaged dream.

 “Finn!” he said, stepping forward and reaching out a hand, only to stop when the long body lounging on the sofa did not react with the same joy and surprise.

 Finn Hudson, dressed in slacks, a plain button up shirt, a sweater-vest, and loafers, all oddly devoid of any color but a dull muted gray, looked up at him with a familiar confused expression, as if he could not quite recall where he had seen this visitor before. “Hey,” he said.

 Not knowing what else to do, Kurt sat down on the sofa next to him. “Hi, Finn,” he said softly. “It’s really good to see you again.”

 “You too,” he said, smiling a little. “I don’t usually see you guys so clearly.”

 “What do you mean?”

 He shrugged one shoulder. “You know. Memories of the old days. You don’t usually come right in and talk to me. Maybe I’m finally losing it.”

 This time, Kurt obeyed his impulse and reached out to grasp his hand. “I’m not a memory. I’m really here and I’ve come to take you home.”

 Finn jumped, looking absolutely astounded by the contact. “You touched me!  Who are you?”

 Kurt felt his heart drop to somewhere in his shoes. In all the scenarios of finding Finn, he had never once considered that he would be so damaged by this experience that he would not remember his own brother. “Finn, it’s me. It’s Kurt.”

 His brow scrunched. “Kurt? Nah, Kurt is just a kid. You look older than me.”

 Puzzled by this response, Kurt sat forward, both giving and taking a closer look. Now that he mentioned it, Finn did look younger than the not-quite-20 year old who had been studying to be a teacher. He appeared to be around fifteen. The way he had looked when Kurt first developed his stupid crush on this boy back in their freshman year of high school. “I’m almost twenty-two now,” he said. “Same as you would be.”

 Finn considered this, playing with the buttons on his vest, which Kurt now recognized in spite of the lack of signature blue and red, as one of the alternates to the Dalton uniform blazer. But Finn had never gone to Dalton Academy. He had never even set foot inside the place, unless he had come here to confront Blaine on the day he . . . oh!

 “I thought . . . your body was found at your dorm at U of O,” he said, “not here.”

 His brow scrunched. “Body? Dude, what are you talking about? I’ve been here ever since I transferred.”

 Kurt decided to play along. He remembered that Adam had told him that he carried echoes of Blaine’s malice with him into the Void when he was torn away from his physical body. Maybe Finn had somehow carried memories belonging to his attacker, and confused them with the stories he knew of Kurt’s own time here. Also, Finn did not appear to realize that he had died. Rather than a formless phantom or wandering soul, his essence had simply transported to a place that gave him the appearance of a somewhat normal life.

 “Finn, what exactly do you do here? At Dalton Academy. You said ‘we’ don’t usually come in and talk. Who is that?”

 “I . . .” he paused, seeming unsure of the answer now. “I go here . . . don’t I? This room, and the choir room, and I see my mom, and Shue, and Rachel, and Puck, and Kurt sometimes. But they don’t come in, they just remind me of things we used to do together, and then they go away and I go back to hanging out in here. That’s okay, right?”

 Surprised by the anxious question, Kurt patted his arm. “Yeah, that’s fine. But it isn’t exactly real either. Because you never attended Dalton. I did, remember? When we were seventeen, I got chased out of McKinley by a death threat and I came here for a few months. Until you helped me figure out a way to confront the bad parts and regain my old life and all of our old friends. Because by then you and I had become brothers.”

 “Because Mom married Burt,” he said in a revelatory tone. “You threw them a wedding, and you and I danced together, and we were cool.”

 He grinned. God, how he had missed that simplistic way of viewing things. “Yeah, we were. You made up your mind to look after me and to be a real brother to me, and you did.”

 Sadness filled Finn’s brown eyes. “No I didn’t. I only cared about me, and once you were gone I stopped acting like a brother and just did stuff that mattered to me. Even when you came home again, I ignored how the other kids treated you.”

 “Only for a while,” Kurt said, then he sighed. No, he could not do that again. His instinctive habit of letting everyone off the hook and pretending that their actions had not hurt him was what had led to Blaine being able to get under his defenses so easily in the first place. He had to be honest with Finn now, for both their sakes. “It did hurt me, when you buried your head in the sand over and over, pretending like nothing mattered except what was happening in your life. You didn’t really consider me again until you came to New York. You remember the day we found out Blaine had cheated on me?”

 Was it his imagination, or was Finn growing more distinct? The colors of his uniform looked brighter than before, taking on hints of faded navy and burgundy instead of the nondescript gray. He also appeared slightly older, Kurt thought.

 “I remember,” he said, his voice barely audible. “I think that was when I accepted that he wasn’t as great as we’d all been telling ourselves. He broke your heart, and he didn’t even care. But you guys kept making up again, and I told myself it was like me and Rachel, except that wasn’t so great either by the end of things.”

 “He was using me. He never really cared at all, and I didn’t want to face that,” Kurt said bluntly, feeling tears prickle at his eyes. “Any more than you wanted to believe that you and Rachel weren’t good for each other.”

 He nodded. “Rachel loved me, and I loved her, but we never would have worked out in the long run. We had passion, but we never had much understanding. And you didn’t even get that much. You guys were all about him, right from the start. I didn’t understand how bad he treated you until you met someone new that you were honestly happy with. You sort of bloomed then, like a big flower of some kind. It’s sounds weird but you got beautiful then, like you were really you for the first time and really happy with your life. Only instead of being happy for you, everybody at home kept trying to drag you backward, and turn you back into the sad little weed you always were with Blaine. I never knew why they couldn’t see what I saw.”

 “They were under a spell,” Kurt told him. “A real one, with magic.”

 Finn scoffed, but then his brow furrowed again. “You aren’t kidding, are you?”

 Kurt smiled at him. “No, Finn, I’m not. Magic is real. I have it, from my mom.” He hesitated, then said, “And you have it from yours. Blaine has it too, although it’s a warped unpredictable kind of magic that he mostly uses for his own advancement. A lot of our old friends turned out to be witches, and mostly good ones, who’ve helped me to find my true self. And I found Adam again. He’s the guy who made me, as you put it, bloom. Blaine hurt him, trapped him here for a long time, and made me forget him.”

 They stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment, then Finn said, “That’s super weird. Are you sure? You don’t look like you have powers, and I don’t have any, I don’t think. How did you find out about all this stuff?”

 “It’s a long story. I . . . do you mind if try something? It might save us a lot of time.”

 Kurt was not sure this would work, given that the bodies they both occupied at this moment were little more than an illusion, but at Finn’s eager nod, he placed his fingers at his brother’s temples and willed him to See an edited version of Kurt’s experiences over the past several months. It was similar to things he had done with Adam, Brittany, and Elliott, and he was counting on the love that had grown up between himself and Finn to make it work for them.

 Finn’s eyes were like saucers. “Whoa. That’s amazing. It’s awesome!”

 “That’s a pretty good description,” Kurt agreed with a grin, relieved to have Finn take this so well.

 “But . . . what you showed me. Blaine did that to Adam? And to you? And I found out but I still didn’t help? Or did I help? You said Blaine trapped him here. Does that mean he trapped me here? Am I not really where I think I am?”

 A little surprised that he had picked up the subtext so quickly, not a skill he recalled being one of Finn’s better ones, Kurt nodded. “I’m afraid so.  After you found out that Blaine was hurting me, trying to force me to marry him, you tried to stop him. Your powers were coming in, though none of us knew it at the time, and you must have come here to have it out with Blaine. I guess whatever you said to him must have freaked him out and he followed you back to your dorm, and you guys fought.”

 “And my powers showed up?” he guessed, face brightening at that idea. Kurt suspected he was imagining himself as some kind of magical ninja death fighter, like something out of those video games he had loved to play with Sam, Puck, and the other “bros” back in high school. Then his smile fell. “Wait, if Blaine is still okay and I’m trapped at Dalton, he must’ve out-magicked me.”

 Kurt nodded. “I think it was more like you started moving things with your will, he panicked and sledge-hammered you with magic, and you got knocked out of your body the same way Adam was, only whatever you did to defend yourself resulted in your memories getting tangled up. So you’re here, in a place familiar to me and Blaine, and he’s still walking around in his own body, doing who knows what kind of awful things to people.”

 By now, Finn’s coloring had returned to full brightness and he looked like the version of himself that Kurt had last seen in Ohio a few weeks before his death. His clothing had also transformed, after briefly being a proper Dalton uniform, into a pair of jeans and a blue checked shirt. Likely the clothing he had worn on his last day.

 “And I’m dead,” he said in a tone that was too resigned to be something he had never realized before, however subconsciously. “My body didn’t survive the magic blast, did it?”

 “No,” Kurt told him. “I’m afraid it didn’t. You’ve been here a long time now, and I’m sorry I didn’t know that, or have a way to reach you before today.”

 He looked startled at that. “Dude, it wasn’t your fault!  If I can’t be mad at myself for not standing up for you sooner with Blaine, then you can’t be mad at yourself for not jumping off a cliff to come look for me. I don’t even know how you did it this time.”

 “Oh, well, my friends that I showed you? My coven? They helped me get back into the Void, and we used the power of an especially powerful day, plus the ritual of my . . . did I tell you this was my wedding day?  Adam and I got Joined this morning, and we’re getting legally married in a few hours.”

 Finn beamed at him. “Seriously? That’s awesome, man. C’mere!”

 His long arms abruptly reached out and embraced Kurt, drawing him close and squeezing tight. And just like that, Kurt’s determination to get through this meeting without tears fell apart. He hugged his brother tight, unable to stop himself as he began sobbing into that blessedly familiar shoulder. “Oh, Finn, I missed you so much.”

 They held each other for a long time, neither one willing to let go, but finally Finn loosened his grip and said, “I missed you too, Kurt. Seriously, I’ve missed everybody but you’re one of the people I’ve missed most of all. Thanks for coming back for me.”

 “Once I learned you might really be here, lost in here the way Adam was, I,” he choked up too much to talk, sitting up and wiping his eyes on his sleeve. He jumped then, realizing suddenly that while they still occupied the little couch together, the common room at Dalton had vanished from around them. They were back in the empty gray nothingness of the Void.

 Finn just looked around, unimpressed. “It does that sometimes. When I’m in the rooms at Dalton, I forget I’m here, and sometimes I forget other stuff too. Then I remember and I’m here again. It seems like I should go to McKinley, or my old room, or someplace else I spent a lot of time, but I never do. Sometimes when I’m thinking straight, I wonder if I’m in Purgatory, like they used to talk about in church. Like maybe I did something bad, but not bad enough for like devils and torture and stuff. I’d think that was happening now except that you’re way too real, and your story is way too weird to be something I imagined.”

 “You’re taking this a lot better than I expected,” Kurt said, blowing his nose in a handy handkerchief that had appeared on the sofa next to him.

 “I guess you get used to it,” he said. “If it was always like this, knowing I was stuck here with nothing to look at, and nobody to hang out with, I’d be as bad as you showed me with Adam. But it isn’t, so I’m not. I’m okay, but if you have a way to get us out of here, that’d be even better.”

 “I do,” Kurt said firmly. “Now that we’re on the same page, it should be just a matter of both of us willing you back home with me. That’s what I did with Adam. Although, it feels like that was way faster. We didn’t have any time to talk about it. It just sort of happened. But I’ll reach out to the coven, and pull us back to the real world, and they’ll seal off the spell so nothing else can leak through behind us.”

  Finn nodded, pretending that he fully understood. “Sounds good. Only if I don’t have a body anymore, what are you going to do with me?”

 “Sam is willing to share his body,” Kurt explained. “Blaine damaged him pretty badly over the years of their friendship, by storing stolen power inside him. We need a steadying influence to help him heal from the magic poisoning he’s suffered, and we also need a physical body for you, so if you’re okay with it, the two of you will share.”

 Finn considered it. “I guess so. Sam was always a good friend, and if this will help us both then I’m willing to try it. Who’ll be in charge, though? Will my mind just take over his body, or will we be like split-personality guy, or what? What if one of us wants to do something, like get a job or go on a date, and the other one doesn’t? Who gets to decide?”

 “Uh . . . I guess that’s something we’ll just have to find out, or you and Sam can figure as you go,” Kurt said, a little dismayed that he had never considered that angle. “I’m not even sure this is a permanent solution. For now, it’s just the best we’ve got.”

 Finn gave a philosophical shrug. “Better than nothing.” Suddenly, he perked up. “Ooh, maybe I’ll be able to transport in and out at will, like in a comic book!  And then one day, somebody will build a super robot and I can transfer into that and have kick-ass powers! Speaking of powers, I wonder if I’ll have any in Sam’s body. I kind of like the idea of being able to move stuff at will.”

 Kurt couldn’t help it. He hugged Finn again, laughing this time. “I have no idea, but I think I’m looking forward to finding out. Shall we?”

 Finn hopped up, pulling Kurt with him, and the sofa vanished into the gray. “Let’s go.”

 Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, Kurt kept both hands firmly locked on Finn’s forearms as he opened his link to the coven wider. Understanding, they began actively pulling him back home and Kurt sensed the cold emptiness fading away.

 Just before the end, he opened his eyes, sealing away one last memory of Finn’s face. No matter what happened next, he would never look into these beloved brown eyes again. Finn seemed to understand, for he flashed his brother a crooked smile and gave him a nod.

 ~*~*~*~*~*~

 With an abrupt jerk, Kurt’s spirit rejoined his body. He reached out, momentarily dismayed to find his brother gone, until he remembered that of course there would be nothing to hang on to outside of the Void. And then he felt Sam respond to the gesture and grip his arms in much the same way Finn had done a moment before. They stared at one another as Monica and Santana stepped forward, L.T., Elliott and Sebastian taking a few steps back and giving the second warding circle room to change places with them and surround the two . . . possibly three . . . young men in the center.

 “Quick, give me your pendant,” Monica ordered, placing both hands around Kurt’s right one and closing her fingers around the chain dangling half-forgotten in his grip. She whispered an incantation over the metal and the enchanted pendant rose into the air, pointing like an arrow at a spot slightly above and to the left of Sam. “Got him. San, you’re up.”

 Santana lifted both hands and wove them in an intricate pattern over the spot the pendant had indicated. “Just hang tight, Frankenteen, and try not to move from wherever you are. This won’t hurt a bit.” The force-field that extended from her wide-spread fingertips encircled a large area and coalesced around something roughly six and a half feet tall. “Good boy. Think like you’re really standing there. Dani, make us a snowman.”

 Dani’s hands covered Santana’s, then helped her shape a rough outline of a person inside the force-field. It wavered and then slowly solidified until it really did look like a human being, if that person was formed entirely of ice. “Nice to finally meet you, Finn Hudson.”

 A little cry tore from Carole’s throat at the sight and it was only the tight grip that she had on June and Adam’s hands that kept her from launching at the newcomer. However transformed, her son had returned. But the Crawfords kept a firm grip. They understood her reaction all too well, but it was imperative that the final warding circle not be broken while so much magic was being performed inside of it. Not until Finn and Sam were truly connected.  

 Burt left his place at the breakfast bar and came to stand behind his wife, massaging her shoulders in a comforting way as he joined her anxious observation. “Don’t worry, honey. Everything will be okay if we just let them finish what they started.”

 Tears shone in her eyes as she nodded. “I know,” she said thickly. “I just . . .”

 “It’s okay, Carole,” Kurt said, not taking his eyes from the substitute form of his brother. “I think we’re almost there.”

 “Make us some room, Brit,” Dani said.

 Brittany, her face unusually serious as she worked, squinted her eyes at Sam and softly sang out a musical incantation, then she uncorked a vial of potion that Adam had made up for her and tossed it at Sam. “I Conjure the soul of one Samuel Jason Evans,” she called out, beads of sweat breaking out across her face as she struggled to do gently what Blaine Anderson had done to two of her friends by force, removing Sam’s spirit from his physical body. “Catch him, Kurt.”

 The words were so casually spoken that Kurt almost did not react in time, but he jumped forward and caught Sam beneath the armpits and pulled him into an embrace just as he began to fall. He held on tight and tried to ignore the uncomfortable sensation that he was cradling a corpse, barely able to repress the urge to shiver at how still and cold the body felt in his arms.

 “Okay, Johnny,” she said, still remarkably unperturbed in spite of the perspiration now running in rivulets down her face and neck. “We’re ready.”

 Those with Sight could see the damaged soul she so carefully held, but even those without it could see what a struggle this was. Many of the observers in the room felt their respect for the member of Kurt’s coven they most habitually underestimated going up by degrees. What Brittany was doing clearly took both great power and very fine control.

 Johnny reached out one hand toward Sam’s floating spirit, and the other toward ice-Finn. Then he closed his eyes and began to chant. Slowly, Finn’s frozen features transformed into Sam’s, and then the indistinct form of Sam’s damaged self began to solidify until it took on the shape of Finn.

 Dani and Santana worked together to form a second ice-human within a force-field and Brittany fell back with a grateful gasp as she was able to let someone else take control.

 “Back to you, Mon,” Johnny said.

 Monica nodded and lifted the enchanted pendant, holding it aloft over a silver ring that Sam had been wearing when he arrived at the loft that morning. Kurt had not thought to ask about it, too distracted by other matters, but it occurred to him now that he had never seen his friend wear any kind of jewelry before. Studying it now as the ring began to glow in Monica’s outstretched hand, he realized that the Metallurgist must have created the item specifically for today’s event.

 Speaking a series of spidery, barely audible syllables, Monica lowered the pendant until it passed through the center of the ring, then slowly wound the chain around and around it. “Kurt, please complete the Working,” she directed as the two spirits each reached out toward the interwoven jewelry without anyone’s advice.

 He nodded and took a deep breath, hoping he had learned enough to pass this final test of the knowledge and power unique to a coven leader.

 “You got this, kid. And we got you,” Tubbington said. “Don’t worry about a thing.”

 Kurt nodded to him, unable to keep from startling a little when he noticed that the golden-brown, blue, and green eyes of the three Familiars were all glowing like they had neon lights inside of them. He could almost reach out and touch the power radiating from the trio.

 “Kurt,” Adam called. He looked up, meeting the eyes of his true soul-mate. A feeling of deep joy, love, and utmost confidence passed to him from his beloved and Kurt’s thundering heartbeat steadied. “You can do this.”

 “Right,” he said, offering back a nod and a tentative smile. “Dani, Johnny, help me out here.”

They gently transferred the still body from Kurt’s arms into their own, holding it safe between them and freeing Kurt to reach out both hands and cup them around the enchanted jewelry. Monica pulled her own hand away and left Kurt’s covering the ephemeral hands of his brother and friend. Santana lightly pulled away her force-fields, trusting that the two disembodied souls were now safely connected to Kurt as he began to speak.

 “Mind and Heart. Body and Spirit. Thought and Flesh. Let these two lost souls be joined by the power of this coven, and the will of this Gathering.” Kurt took a step back, keeping the jewelry telekinetically afloat and connecting the two spirits, then he spread his arms wide as if embracing his friend and his brother and began to close the circle around them, whispering magical syllables as he wove three of his powers together, compressing, swapping, heating, until the ice was fully melted and the two individual beings were joined into a single form around the joint ring and necklace. The new spirit grew indistinct, slowly became a human looking form again, which at first looked mostly like Finn, and then more like Sam, and then became something like both for a moment before melting into a form of light.

 To Sight, he, or perhaps they, looked like a being made of pure Potential, bright and gleaming, the broken pieces of two damaged people healed through their own form of Joining. A brotherly bond of deepest love that spread out to include Kurt, his coven, and each and every person in the watching circle.

 Kurt placed a hand on the new being’s chest, and the other on Sam’s waiting body, relying on instinct as he concentrated all his remaining strength on Whisking (a name recently given to his transference power by Elliott) the spirit into the body. It obeyed the silent command as easily as if the body was putting on a new garment.

 The coven joined hands and as one they spoke. “So Shall it Be.”

 The entire loft shivered as if it had been struck by a distant earthquake, and all of the people in it winced and gasped as their ears were vibrated by a surge of power that seemed to suck all of the sound out with it, leaving nothing but a yawning echo for several seconds.  

 The cats’ eyes glowed even brighter, every hair on their bodies standing on end as they yowled a chorus of magic, slowly closing down the powerful ward they had created, allowing the gathered power to dissipate back into the cosmos, then double-checking that no trace of the Void had been left open behind the travelers. The howl rose for a moment, then became something more human, taking on a distinctly musical quality that slowly softened into a gentle purr.

 Around the loft, the pressure ebbed, normal sound returned, and this time it was Kurt who dropped to the floor like a lifeless puppet, completely unconscious.

 “Show’s over, folks!” Tubbington called out with entirely too much cheer for someone who had just presided over a Major Working. “You may resume your normally scheduled panic.”

 Babbling conversations broke out everywhere as people surged forward. It was a crush of confusion as some ran to Kurt, some to Sam/Finn, some to other coven members who all sat on the floor in exhausted heaps of depleted strength.

 Carole and Mercedes were the first to reach Sam/Finn and they looked him over with a mixture of hope, fear, and worry. The blond man blinked at them, confused as he tried to process his new reality. Finally, he looked at Carole. “Mom? What happened? When did you get so tall?”

 The distraught mother looked into his now blue eyes, searching, and then she laughed, crying at the same time and enfolded the young man in the tightest of hugs. “Finn. Oh my god. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. I was so afraid to hope this could possibly work.”

 He hugged her back, a long rocking embrace that seemed to seek as well as give comfort, though it was obvious that he had lost a few steps somewhere between the Void and this new integrated existence. “It’s okay, Mom. I’m right here.”

 “Sam?” Mercedes asked tentatively, clearly not sure whether it was okay to interrupt the tender moment, but terribly worried about the man she had once been in love with. “Are you still in there too?”

 He looked at Mercedes, not releasing Finn’s mother, but smiling sweetly as he rested his cheek against Carole’s head. “I’m still here, babe,” he said, in a tone that was somehow both familiar and strange. “Feeling better too. I’m just taking a back seat to the big guy right now.”

 He blinked and then ‘Finn’ lit up as he recognized her. “Hey, Mercedes!  Long time no see!”

 Mercedes’ mouth dropped open, a bit taken aback as she also found that she could easily recognize her old friend in spite of the change in body. “Finn. My God, boy, if I didn’t already think Kurt Hummel was some kind of miracle worker before, I sure do now. C’mere.”

 As Carole reluctantly released him, Mercedes lunged forward for her own happy bear-hug, laughing and crying with overwhelming emotion.

 But the mention of his brother’s name had reoriented some of Finn’s confused thoughts. “Dude! Kurt! Is he okay? He saved me from that weird place. He saved both of us.”

 “He’s okay,” Burt said, reaching out from his spot on the floor where he was holding one of Kurt’s hands, while Adam cradled Kurt in his lap and cooed over him, while Kurt’s lethargically blinking eyes offered proof that he was awake but too tired to do anything but lie back and let himself be fussed over. The two smiled at one another as Finn reached out for his brother’s free hand and gave it a squeeze of gratitude. Burt clasped his own work-hardened hands over their joint ones and swallowed hard, not even trying to hide the tears in his eyes. “All of my boys are okay. And that includes you, Sam, and you, Adam.”

 “What about us?” asked Sebastian, newly formed into his human self and lounging wearily but smugly in Elliott’s arms. “Don’t we get any long-lost-son brownie points here? After all, Kurt couldn’t have done it without us.”

 Burt huffed, but Kurt let go a tired laugh. “He’s right, you know. I needed every one of you today, and you all came through with flying colors. Thank you, all of you.”

 Nods, smiles, a bow here and there, and Burt chuckled. “Aw, what the hell? When we first got married, Kurt’s mom and I used to joke that we wanted to have a dozen kids. This wasn’t quite what I pictured, but I expect I have enough room in my life for all of you. Just bring your own snacks, and call first if you’re gonna drop by the house.”

 Everyone laughed, agreeing that this would be fine by them. “Same goes for me,” Henry agreed jovially. “Though I never pictured myself raising a pack with Burt Hummel.”

 They laughed again, teasing the two older men who, over the last couple of months, had progressed from near enemies to sworn friends.

 “Speaking of food,” Kurt said, raising his voice above the din, “I could really use some brunch right now if I’m going to have any chance of making it to my own wedding today. Never mind the reception.”

 A new babble of excited conversations rose up as all of Kurt and Adam’s friends and family were reminded that there were joyous events still to come.

 “I’m on the job, Junior,” Tubbington said happily. “My poor little kittens probably couldn’t conjure a cup of coffee right now, so the two Dads and I will go pick up lunch for everybody.”

 “Or I could just Conjure you something,” Bethany offered. “I wasn’t involved in the main spell-casting so I’m still fresh as a daisy.”

 Tubbington flung an arm around her shoulders. “Sorry Adam, I just found a new favorite Crawford. So, Beth, how do you feel about Kung Pao Chicken?”

 As everyone else began conferring on a lunchtime wish-list, Carole, Burt, Henry, Adam, and Finn/Sam hung back. Picking Kurt up off the floor they moved back to the private bedroom alcove, setting the exhausted coven leader down to sit. Adam, having also been on the outskirts was feeling fine and he happily engaged in fussing over Kurt, kissing him and telling him again and again how brave and wonderful he was, while Finn/Sam was ironically bouncing with renewed energy.

 “That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” Henry said at last, looking at his new son in law with undisguised admiration. “And I’ve seen some spell-casting in my time. The way your coven worked together, each providing his or her piece of the puzzle, was some of the finest teamwork I’ve ever encountered. You should be very proud of what you’ve built here, son.”

 “I am,” Kurt said, looking around at his family and out at his friends, back to happily squabbling over little things now that the excitement was over. Johnny was ignoring everyone as he concentrated on moving all of the furniture back out of his bespelled bag and into its usual position around the room so that Tubbington could enlarge what looked like a collection of doll-house furniture back to its proper size. Others were complimenting each other on their part in the spell-casting and replaying their favorite parts for one another. “I really am.”

 “That really took a lot out of you, though, didn’t it?” Adam said, stroking Kurt’s brow as he rested his head on Adam’s shoulder.

 He nodded. “Yes, but I’ll be okay, and it was 100% worth it.” Kurt reached out and squeezed Sam/Finn’s hand. “I got my brother back. And my friend is going to be okay too. This new situation will take some getting used to, but I’m so glad you both trusted us enough to try it.”

 “Dude, before I forget to say it, thanks for what you did for me,” he replied. “I don’t think I even knew how bad off I was until right now. I feel a thousand percent better, and even though it’s weird to have someone else rattling around in my brain with me, it feels good too. And Kurt? That brother sentiment goes double for me. You and me are family now, okay?”

 Kurt smiled. “Okay. Thanks, Sam. I missed you too. And Finn?” He waited a second as the other man’s face made the minute change he was already beginning to associate with his brother. “You need to take it easy for a while. I don’t know what the future holds for you guys, but I want you both to have as good a second chance as you possibly can.”

 “You got it. We’re just gonna go home with Mom and Burt, and see how things go for a while.”

 “I already sleep in your old bedroom, so that’ll be easy,” Sam said. “And we already like the same movies, and music, and games, and stuff. That’s cool, right?”

 “Totally,” Finn said enthusiastically. “And dude, this totally means we can now play both drums and guitar!”

 “I never thought of that!”

 The rest of the group was watching with fascination as the blond carried on a happy conversation with himself. It was a little confusing, but also an incredibly joyful experience.

 “You’re gonna have to watch that in public,” Burt said, shaking his head. “Everyone’s gonna think you’ve got a screw loose.”

 “Burt,” Carole scolded gently. She could not stop staring at the young man in front of her, marveling at how much of her son she could see in this boy she had known and loved for years as Sam. 

 Kurt also watched in quiet contentment. He had realized just a moment ago that if he turned on his Sight, he could somehow see them both, overlapping but distinct. He was not sure if this was a side effect that would fade, or if he would always be able to see them, but it was an amazingly comforting thing and he knew that he would cherish this gift for as long as it lasted. His step-mother did not possess Sight, but Carole’s natural Empathy was clearly allowing her to feel the reality of her son’s presence in Sam and for now that appeared to be good enough.

 Elliott poked his head in, beaming like a ray of sunshine. “Food’s ready, everyone!  We’ve got about fifteen different dishes to choose from. Adam, your sister really knows her stuff.”

 “She does, and she has a slightly overdeveloped mothering instinct to go along with it, so I’m sure she provided enough for an army,” he agreed with a grin. “What do you say, family? Shall we go tuck in?”

 “In a second,” Kurt said.

 Finn/Sam, animatedly discussing with himself whether to change their name to “Fam” or “Sinn”, were already out the door, heading towards the food like a metal filing to a magnet. The parents moved a bit more slowly, but they kindly took the hint that the young couple needed a moment alone.

 “I’m sorry if I hurt you, or worried you, when I decided to move you out of the main circle for your own safety. Forgive me?”

 Adam kissed him without hesitation. “Of course I do. I understood, and though I can’t deny being worried for you, I also had confidence that you could do what you set out to do.”

 He nodded. “I could feel that, and it gave me more confidence just knowing I had yours. That place was so . . . strange. It was different this time than when I went for you, but just as unsettling. I know I’ve said it before, but you’re incredible for keeping your sanity intact for so long. Finn got stuck in a strange little imaginary Dalton Academy that kept resetting his memory, so he never had much time to get freaked out by where he was, but you didn’t even get that. You just had to power through by your own brave, stubborn will. By the way, how long was I in there?”

 “Not as long as it probably felt,” Adam replied, characteristically pushing aside the admiration in Kurt’s tone. “I would say . . . perhaps a half hour?”

 “Really?” Kurt was astonished. It had indeed seemed like he was wandering for many hours in the Void before he had even located Finn, and then at least an hour talking with him before venturing back. “Wow, time really does move strangely there.”

 Adam nodded. “It does, yes. And darling? Now that it’s over, you have my utmost gratitude for shielding me from the experience. I can see that you weathered it well, but I’m not sure I could have done so. Well, unless I also got a posh boarding school to wait in. Maybe one with a nice board and some excellent orange spice tea.”

 Kurt laughed. “I guess that’s your way of saying we should get out there before all the food’s gone?”

 “Wise as well as beautiful,” Adam said, pecking the tip of Kurt’s nose with his lips. “Are you up to it, or would you like me to bring you in a tray?”

 “Oh, no, I’m feeling a lot better, though I wouldn’t say no to a nap and some cuddling afterward. If we have enough time before we’re due at the courthouse.”

 Checking his watch, Adam smiled. “More than enough. Shall we?”

 “We shall.”

 Hand in hand, the couple walked out of their room and back into the throng of happily chattering loved ones.  This was, once again, the happiest day of their lives.

 THE END

#Witch!Kurt #Hummel Coven #Furt in the Void

[ayyyez]

Could you do hc on Tobirama and s/o (she would be the younger sister of Madara and Izuna) on an arranged marriage to make peace and to make his brother's village dream true? SFW and/or NSFW

a/n: Heeeeeell yeh you can! Alright Tobirama hoes who love Uchiha!Readers come get ya’ll juice! Thanks for the request friendo! (hope it was worth the wait omg I’m finally getting these requests down) sorry these are so damn long I didn’t make it to the nsfw lol next time I promise! warnings: ahh little angst didn’t make it to nsfw 

-Tobirama is entirely indifferent to marriage. For him it’s something to create alliances and project the strength of the village. It makes no difference to him whether you are an Uchiha or not. Low-key will keep an eye on you but other than that it’s much of a muchness for him. 

-Let’s say it’s canon compliant and Tobirama killed Izuna well that makes things complicated but you try your best to no outright hate him. You have seen your fair share of war and it also ripped your family apart. All you have left is Madara and even he is left a broken husk of a man. So you decide to sacrifice your own self for the dream and light you brother once held. You agree to marry Tobirama.

-On some level you hope Tobirama sees things the same way and that he will make an effort to be kind. You knew it wouldn’t bring back your brother but it would make the marriage less insufferable. But Tobirama isn’t that sort of man, he will either say what he thinks or nothing at all. Niceties don’t come naturally to him and it’s foolish to expect them. 

-When the talks for marriage first happen it’s a sit down between Hashirama and Tobirama across from yourself and Madara along with the new Uchiha leader for good measure. You knew he was nothing more than a prop, a gesture of good will to show the Senju that your clan had changed. Hell, if you didn’t have to marry in order to add security then you would be the leader. Fate was certainly laughing in your face. 

-It wasn’t long before Madara blew up at Tobirama and the two were duelling a battle of the wits. Normally, Hashirama would step in to mediate but before he could utter a word you slammed your fist against the table startling everyone. 

‘Might I say a word toward my own marriage proposal?’ You said, not bothering to hold the air of formalities since your brother already broke them. 

‘Of course.’ Hashirama replied. 

-You looked between them. Tobirama looked shocked and honestly it was the first time you had seen much emotion etched on his face. Were it under any other circumstances you would have laughed but you were frustrated. 

‘Whatever the terms you wish you put forward,’ you took a deep breath, ‘I’ll do it. I’ll marry Tobirama Senju.’ 

Quite possibly the most regrettable words to ever come from your mouth but your options were taken from you. 

Madara called your name. ‘You can’t possibly consider actually agreeing to-’

‘I just did.’ You looked around at each other their stunned expressions. ‘If this is what keeps people safe, what keeps peace then I’ll do it. That is why we are here, right?’ 

-And that was how you signed yourself over to a Senju, the clan you were pitted against from infancy. Still it was worth it enough just to rile each of them up and remind them that you were no pawn to be trifled with. If you were to play then you would be a key player. As you should have been as the leader. 

-The ceremony was simple but with a large gathering expected of both an Uchiha and a Senju. But honestly it seemed everyone was enjoying the day more than the actual couple. You noted that there was nothing unusual about that. Marriage even before peacetime always hinged on power and passing on abilities. Your own mother coupled with your father for the strength of the clan.

-It was when you entered your new home, left alone with the man you now called you husband that you realised the reality of the situation. There was no going back now. You laughed to yourself as you looked out the window, realising the ridiculousness of the situation. ‘Sorry, Izuna.’ You whispered as you retreated to the bathroom to bathe. 

-You had become so numb that you barely felt the heat of the bath water against your skin. The steam cloaked around you like a defensive bubble as you scrubbed your skin. Maybe you would wake up and everything would be a dream? No, that wasn’t the cruel world you knew. 

-When you walked into the bedroom Tobirama was sitting at the end of the bed, staring at something on the wall and deep in thought. You didn’t bother speaking to him as you climbed into bed and beneath the covers. It wasn’t a marriage built out of mutual affection so why bother acting like it? You turned away from him and willed sleep to take you.

-Tobirama spent a few moments in the same position before he eventually shut out the light and climbed into bed beside you. He didn’t bother speaking to you either. It was one of the most restless nights for the pair of you and you never knew how much of a void there could be between someone so close beside you. 

-When the morning light shinned in through the window and the situation didn’t dissolve you knew this was your life now. The two of you lying there, on your backs in silence. 

‘I wondered what kind of man you were,’ you began, bluntly, ‘a killer sure but we are all killers.’ You swallowed. ‘What I didn’t know was whether or not you were the sort of man to force someone to do something against their will in order to secure this arrangement.’ 

‘You are not one to be forced and I am not one to force such things when they are not wanted.’ Tobirama said, flatly. ‘So let us leave it at that.’ He climbed out of bed and left the room.

-A smile came to your face. Should you be at least be happy your new husband didn’t have violent delights in that respect? You could hear Izuna mocking you in your head. Kami if he could see you now he would never believe it. With a groan you got out of bed and contented yourself with making breakfast. 

-The days passed by the same way. You and Tobirama spoke no more than a sentence to each other. You filled your days with errands, seeing old clan members and training your abilities. Possessing the sharingan was a precarious thing if you didn’t continue to train it. Sometimes you fantasised about over powering Tobirama in battle. You imagined the shocked look on his face. 

-The days bled into weeks and you were growing bored of life. There was only so much to keep you busy and you were going to lose your mind. That was when you walked by the newly established academy, watching the kids run in the field and an idea struck you. You could pass on your knowledge to the next generation and do something useful besides being someones wife while they ran the village. 

-There at the academy you found your new lifes purpose teaching the children of the new generation. It was challenging but also incredibly rewarding. Knowing these kids weren’t sent off into battle to watch people die was something that kept you going. Something you would fight to keep that way. 

-This new found light gave you hope. Maybe you could help achieve you brothers original dream after all and do Izuna’s memory proud? Perhaps all the of this wasn’t for nothing. 

-The new found joy began to light up your hope in home life as well. You began to converse more with Tobirama. It started with business talk. Enquiring about the academy and sharing your ideas. In turn he gave you his honest opinion, shutting down ideas that wouldn’t work but adding onto those that did. It was almost as though the two of you began respecting each other. 

-Tobirama was not blind to the shift too. He saw this as an opportunity to strengthen your marriage which was always so strained. He made it a point (although he would never tell you or anyone) to set aside time to work on plans for the academy. He would charge you with testing out ideas and plans and trusted your feedback on the matter. 

-He began visiting the academy more, speaking to you more and it wasn’t long before the two of you actually got along. It was nothing deep but it was so much more than it was before. It made you think that this could work. This could be a liveable life. 

-During the nights you noticed the distance between you and Tobirama wasn’t so vast like the empty void it was before. In fact, you could swear that physically he was closer to you as well. You wondered whether it was conscious or not but either way you didn’t mind. 

-When the two of you were home you would spend hours talking about the possibilities for the village. You talked about the children and your hopes for their future. He in turn explained how that could incorporate in everyday life of the village and create more opportunities for people. It was stimulating and it was nice. You felt yourself drawn closer.

-But then the anniversary of Izuna’s death hit you like ice water. You woke up with a feeling that something was wrong and then Madara came to see you. That’s when you remembered and with that came the memory of who killed him. You felt guilty for entertaining the thought of enjoying the company of the man who killed your brother.

-That day you spent with Madara, talking about the past and your family. With that came soul crushing pain but you didn’t cry. You had wasted all your tears years ago. You weren’t even sure you could cry anymore. Just like you could never see Izuna again. 

-That night you got home late. Tobirama inquired to your whereabouts but you ignored him. Once you reached the doorway of the hall he called out to you again. 

‘What are you doing?’

You stopped your hand curling over the frame.

‘It’s the anniversary of Izuna’s death,’ you said without turning back, ‘and I’m going to bathe.’ 

-You couldn’t look at him so you kept walking. He didn’t say anything after that either. After your bath you went to bed and he followed behind. You didn’t talk like you usually did, you didn’t even look at each other. And suddenly the void was back and you felt further away from him than you did in the beginning. It hurt more than you could bear. 

-The two of you grew apart after that. There were no more late night conversations or sharing ideas. He didn’t visit you at the academy anymore. When you came home you could look at him again but you didn’t say anything. 

-Tobirama was entirely aware of the change. He didn’t enjoy it but he wouldn’t accept full responsibility either. You knew he had killed Izuna when you entered the marriage so why was it different now? Deep down he knew why. The circumstances of your feelings for one another had changed substantially. But he would not feel guilty of something he had done in the past. Yes he had killed Izuna but honestly, if he hadn’t then it was likely Izuna would have killed him. They were at war after all. 

-Still, he did not enjoy that that fact was the reason for the shift between the two of you. However he would not move to remedy it either. It just wasn’t in him when he didn’t feel responsible. Well, that and he was stubborn. But perhaps he cared more than he would ever admit. 

-As the weeks moved on you didn’t feel such a heaviness weighing over your heart anymore. You would never truly be over Izuna’s death but you didn’t want that to weigh over your relationship anymore. You wanted it to be light again, liveable. 

-But when you got home you couldn’t bring yourself to say as much. You looked at him intently and when his eyes met yours you held their gaze. But still you couldn’t say the words. He seemed unbothered by this, glancing over at you ever so often through dinner.

-By the time you were in bed you contented yourself by promising to fix the void. And you lied awake thinking everything over, feeling angry, sad and confused all at once. You went through each emotion over and over until something moved next to you and broke your thoughts.

-The next thing you knew Tobirama was pressed against you back, his arms wrapped around you and clinging. At first you held your breath wondering what on earth was going on. But then you realised he was asleep and it made a little more sense. You had heard him roll in his sleep before but he had never clung to you like this. And suddenly all the sadness and anger inside you disappeared and you wanted to just savour this moment. 

-Taking a deep breath you turned in his hold to face him. You could barely see in the dark so you activated your sharingan. Then you saw his expression a lot softer in sleep than it did when he was awake. He looked so different, like the weight of the world no longer sat on his shoulders. And as you sharingan eyes shone through the night you imprinted his face on your mind, making a note to lock it away forever. 

-Then you sighed and closed your eyes willing sleep to take you. And it finally did, allowing you to get the rest you had been without for weeks. 

-In the morning you awoke, keeping your eyes closed as you felt Tobirama stir beside you. You felt him tense, as if he realised the position the two of you were in. He went to move but you reached out to stop him and he tensed again. This was uncharted territory between the two of you.

‘Let’s just stay like this for a little while.’ You mumbled, pressing toward him.

You felt his arms relax a little as they ease back around you.

‘I didn’t know you were a clingy sleeper.’ 

‘It’s not a fact I share easily.’ He grumbled. 

-You smiled, the first real smile in weeks. And then you opened your eyes, blinking them as they focused. In front of you was Tobirama, staring at you curiously but with no other discernible expression. You knew it wanted to ask what had changed between you two, why you were suddenly acting this was but he didn’t. Maybe he didn’t want your wrath to complicate things.

-You sighed. 

‘I’m not ever going to be able to forgive you for Izuna,’ you said, swallowing audibly. ‘But I won’t allow my feelings on the matter get between whatever this is anymore.’ Your eyes met his. ‘Are those terms agreeable?’ 

Tobirama looked at you, studying your expression for a moment. 

‘Yes, that is agreeable.’ He said, softly. 

‘Good.’ You whispered.

-The two of you laid there for a few moments, looking at each other, wondering where the two fo you would go from there. But then you decided that you weren’t the type of person to half heart anything. 

-With another sigh you leant forward, inching ever so closely until your lips touched his. The kiss was light for a moment, testing the waters until you pressed them closer, more firmly, cementing that you wanted to try this. And Tobirama kissed you back, his hands pulling you closer as his mouth moved against yours. And finally you were able to accept your marriage to Tobirama Senju.

#request #tobirama #tobirama senju. arranged marriage #tobirama/reader #tobiramaxreader #reader #Uchiha!reader #hate to love #wow i'm actually digging these #nart shippuden #founders #chinchilasarereallysoft #Ask

[startyourfuturerp]

most wanted male?

KURT ELIZABETH HUMMEL.

Aside from the pat answer of ‘anyone you feel inspired for’, but…Really. Where are all of our Kurts? Not only is he the first Glee character I personally fell in love with, but there are probably daily desperate pleas to an unresponsive void requests for Kurt in our ooc - we have a Finn who needs Furt, a Blaine who needs Klaine, and a me Rachel who needs Hummelberry. We need a Kurt.

ALSO, we would love love love a Ryder (also with the daily requests, tbh), a Spencer and/or a Mason (my babe) or Roderick, a Sebastian, a Puck, or…really any male. Elliott, Joe, Jesse…come one, come all, please to be sending in an app ASAP because we need y’all! Seriously! If you have any questions or need advice or guidance on who to play or anything, please feel free to reach out to the main!!

#kurt hummel rp #ryder lynn rp #sebastian smythe #glee rp #glee au rp #Anonymous #syf!mw

[ethicalpraxis]

ARTICLE 44 of the Family Code

The decree appealed from is set aside and the case remanded to the lower court for further proceedings in accordance with this decisioIf both spouses of the subsequent marriage acted

in bad faith, said marriage shall be void ab initio and all donations

by reason of marriage and testamentary dispositions made by one

in favor of the other are revoked by operation of law. (n)

n, without pronouncement as to costs.

Examples

1. If the present spouse knew the whereabouts of the absent spouse, yet, he/she filed an action for the declaration of presumptive death of said spouse, then, he/she is in bad faith.

2. If the other spouse in the subsequent marriage connived with the present spouse in the filing of such case or he/she knew of the whereabouts of the absent spouse, then, the said person is in bad faith.

Donations by reason of marriage

Donations by reason of marriage also known as donations propter nuptias are those which are made before the wedding celebration, in consideration of the same, and in favor of one or both of the future spouses.

Testamentary disposition

Testamentary disposition is the disposition or transfer of property that takes effect upon the death of the person making it. The testator retains almost the entire control of the property until death. In short, it is the gift of property which takes effect at the time of the death of the person making the disposition. 

JIMENEZ VS. REPUBLIC OF THE PHILIPPINES

109 Phil 273

Facts

Joel Jimenez filed a complaint praying for a decree annulling his marriage with Remedios Canizares. He claimed that the orifice of her genitals was too small to allow the penetration of a male organ or penis for copulation. He also claimed that the condition of her genitals existed at the time of marriage and continues to exist. The wife was summoned and served with a copy of the complaint but she did not file an answer. The court entered an order requiring the defendant to submit to a physical examination by a competent lady physician to determine her physical capacity for copulation. Defendant did not submit herself to the examination and the court entered a decree annulling the marriage. The City Attorney filed a Motion for Reconsideration, among the grounds that the defendant’s impotency has not been satisfactorily established as required by law; that she had not been physically examined because she refused to be examined.

Issue

Whether or not the marriage may be annulled on the ground of impotency backed only the testimony of the husband

Held

No. The law specifically enumerates the legal grounds that must be proved to exist by indubitable evidence to annul a marriage. In the case at hand, the annulment of the marriage in question was decreed upon the sole testimony of the husband who was expected to give testimony tending or aiming at securing the annulment of his marriage he sought and seeks. Whether the wife is really impotent cannot be deemed to have been satisfactorily established because from the commencement of the proceedings until the entry of the decree she had abstained from taking part therein.

Although her refusal to be examined or failure to appear in court show indifference on her part, yet from such attitude the presumption arising out of the suppression of evidence could not arise or be inferred because women of this country are by nature coy, bashful and shy and would not submit to a physical examination unless compelled to by competent authority.

 A physical examination in this case is not self-incriminating. She is not charged with any offense . She is not being compelled to be a witness against herself.

 “Impotency being an abnormal condition should not be presumed. The presumption is in favor of potency.” The lone testimony of the husband that his wife is physically incapable of sexual intercourse is insufficient to tear asunder the ties that have bound them together as husband and wife.

The decree appealed from is set aside and the case remanded to the lower court for further proceedings in accordance with this decision, without pronouncement as to costs.

[sntechsupport]

its y ur fa urite mag of vo d calling in. is t e furt est ring shari g sp e dr ks? if n t ill ju t come st al s me a way 8)

Dude, as you know, I’m a Bard of Void, but even a Lord of Void has no power to get letters to stop disapearing. I honestly could not make out the last two words in your second sentence and if I interpreted your full ask right, then I can and will kick your ass if you do.

Sincerely,

SN Tech Support (Clown)

[universalessays-blog]

Racism in the 21st Century Research Paper has been published on http://research.universalessays.com/sociology-research-paper/racism-research-paper/racism-in-the-21st-century-research-paper/

New Post has been published on http://research.universalessays.com/sociology-research-paper/racism-research-paper/racism-in-the-21st-century-research-paper/

Racism in the 21st Century Research Paper

This sample Racism in the 21st Century Research Paper is published for educational and informational purposes only. Like other free research paper examples it is not a custom research paper. If you need help with writing your assignment, please use research paper writing services and buy a research paper on any topic.

Abstract

Race and racism in the contemporary globalized world is a product of historical forces that still resonate today. With a focus on the United States and its relation to race–racism research both in the United States and abroad. By reexamining the Atlantic slave trade, social scientists and historians tie its establishment to the development of the modern world economy. This research paper then examines the specific ways that these linkages are still operative in the United States and globally. The author also suggests new research strategies for understanding the specific ways to expose the depth of these structural racial inequalities, and how to begin to eradicate them.

Outline

Introduction

Pushing the Racial Formation Paradigm

Racial Formation in the Twenty-First Century

Race and Racism beyond the Borders of the United States

Three Hundred Years and Counting

New Engagements of Race

New Globalization Research and Race

Dismantling Structural Racism: The Unfinished Job

Conclusion

Bibliography

Introduction

Racial Formation in the Twentieth Century by Omi and Winant (1984, 1994, 2002) provided a framework through which sociologists, anthropologists, and others could locate the role of race in structuring broader social formations. It was quite useful to use to look at the political and social terrain of the 1970s and 1990s in the United States, especially. It arose at the same time politically that the conservatives and neoliberals were forging a ‘new world order’ that introduced the concepts of ‘colorblindness’ and ‘postracial America’ that one still hears echoed among conservatives during the first Obama administration (Goodman et al., 2012). Also, in the 1990s, anthropologists, sociologists, and biologists reaffirmed the fact that race as a biological construct was not real, but was an illusion, a social construct (Mukhopadhyay and Moses, 1997; Goodman et al., 2012; Smedley, 1993). Omi and Winant challenged that benign view by indicating that race was not an illusion, but was very much a foundational axis of American society (Omi and Winant, 2012: p. 14). Mullings, Harrison, and others also comment that anthropologists, by denying the biological basis of race, actually left a void and a vacuum to talk about what race really was, and how it continued to operate as a powerful social construction (Mullings, 2005; Harrison, 1995). It was Mukhopadhyay and Moses in 1997 who challenged the field of American anthropology to reestablish race in its anthropological discourse (Mukhopadhyay and Moses, 1997). Since then, anthropologists have looked at the social construction of race and racism from many perspectives, including intersectionality of issues like gender, sexual orientation, class, and identity (Mullings, 1997; Bolles, 2001; McClaurin, 2001); power and hegemony (Sanjek, 1998; Smith, 2012); globalization and capitalism (Wade, 2003; Brodkin, 2000); genetics and genomics (Goodman et al., 2012; Bliss, 2012); immigration, migration, and transnationalism (Kearney, 1995); racial critique of the discipline of anthropology itself (Baker, 1998; Mullings, 2005; Marks, 2005; Blakey, 1997; Harrison, 2008; Susser and Patterson, 2001); antiracism research (Mullings, 2005); and the future of race–racism in the United States and the world (Winant, 2001; Goodman et al., 2012).

Pushing the Racial Formation Paradigm

Since the 1990s, there have been developments in the research on race in the United States and abroad that both critique and build on the foundation of Omi and Winant’s work. The edited book Racial Formation in the 21st Century (2012) is a place to begin this critique and new vision of racial formation and its processes. In the introduction, while paying homage to Omi and Winant, the editors, HoSang, LaBennett, and Pulido point out at least three ways that Racial Formation in the 20th Century fell short. They are specifically that Omi and Winant focus too much on the United States as the global model for race, there was a conflation of the concept of race and ethnicity, and class is treated in a dismissive way (2012: p. 6). This book goes on to take a holistic view of new racial theory formation since the original Omi and Winant publication, as well as what they call dialogues and conversations with other racial formation theories that were also in circulation during the 1990s. Two of these theories are critical race theory (Crenshaw, 1991; Crenshaw et al., 1995) and intersectionality theory (Crenshaw et al., 1995; Twine, 1998). Racial formation theory of Omi and Winant did tackle the issue of ethnicity in the United States by explaining that ethnicity is a process by which individuals and groups (come) to understand, or understand themselves as separate or different from others based on social practices such as language, religion, rituals, and other patterns of behavior. In this analysis, they note that the use of the term ethnicity instead of race offers the opportunity for conservatives and neoliberal policies to question or negate the legal and policy gains of people of color in this country, when new policies and programs are focused not on race, but on the creation of a ‘colorblind society,’ which ignore the history and the intractability of structural racism (Goodman et al., 2012).

Other racial theorists outside the fields of sociology and anthropology, such as Thomas Holt (2002) in history and Paul Gilroy (1993, 2002) in cultural studies and American studies have used the concept of Omi and Winant’s racial formation to build theoretical frameworks to better understand and explain the history of the formation of black expressive culture, black diasporic identity, and hybridity. Winant (2000, 2001) argues that there was no such thing as race in classical antiquity. Isaac in his book The Invention of Racism in Classical Antiquity did find what he calls significant examples of ‘protoracism’ in Greek and Roman literature, “despite his observance that racism did not exist in its current form of biological determinism, nor was there any systematic persecution of any ethnic group or another.” Other historians and anthropologists also found it useful to make a distinction between prototypical forms and the systematic racial classification that took center stage over the past two centuries in our modern world (Smedley, 1993). Indeed, Mullings contends that a reexamination of history and race, especially the slave trade puts the concept of race in a different light (2005). Historians like Holt (2002), and anthropologists like Brodkin (2000) along with Winant (2001) all tie the centrality of the African enslaved labor trade to the development of the modern capitalist world economy. Stuart Hall and Paul duGay (1996) and his concept of new ethnicities fall in line with how literary studies have conceptualized race and ethnicity. This field has highlighted how over recent years transnational literacy influences multilingual traditions that traverse national boundaries, and that new multinational public spheres are produced by the translation of diverse texts, ideas, and people. HoSang, Bennett, and Pulido also note that by focusing on the circuits of ethnicity formation in conjunction with racial formation and exploring these relations in and across nations, such studies began to diverge from sociological models of racial formation in which the state plays a central role (HoSang et al., 2012: p. 9). In other words, the sheer movement of vastly diverse groups of people is producing especially for the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries, new ways of thinking about and enacting racial formation on a global scale. Paul Gilroy in Black Atlantic (1993) emphasizes the common global routes that historically link black expressive culture. Foregrounding common experiences of oppression rather than defining blackness in relation to Africa as an ‘actual or mythical’ homeland, Gilroy was able to conceptualize black communities as constructed in defiance of racial essentialism and as connected through popular cultural productions (Gilroy, 1993).

Racial Formation in the Twenty-First Century

Racial Formation in the Twenty-First Century takes us to old and new intersections, beyond the borders of the United States, back to biology and back to the unfinished job of dismantling structural racism here in the United States and beyond. Research in the area of intersectionality in the twenty-first century examines how sociopolitical categories and identities based in race, gender, and class interact, sometimes systematically structuring social inequality and injustice, and sometimes profoundly challenging such social structures. This notion of challenging structures builds on Kimberle Crenshaw’s concept of intersectionality (1991) that sought to explain how the experiences of women of color are “simultaneously the product of intersecting patterns of racism and sexism, and how these experiences tend not to be represented within the discourses of either feminism (read white women) or anti-racism (read men of color)” (Crenshaw, 1991: p. 299). Priya Kandaswamy (2012) points in this new direction as she builds on legal scholar Crenshaw’s model and suggests that racial formation is fundamentally a gendered and sexualized process and further argues that viewing race as unstable, historically produced, and changing in the ways that Omi and Winant demonstrates complicates the meaning of intersectionality (Kandaswamy, 2012: p. 24). For her, it is precisely the intentional interrogation of the historical embeddedness of race, gender, sexuality, and class with each other that will produce new theories of intersectionality. In a similar vein, Ferguson (2012) challenges the historiographical framework proposed by Omi and Winant in Racial Formation that helped to theorize US national liberation movements as more than instances and outcomes of social agitation, showing that they were historiographical provocations that pushed people in the United States to think differently about racial difference and identity. He is fine with the theorizing, but he feels that they leave out a significant group of people who were not officially a part of the national civil rights or national liberation movements of the time. He says “those [smaller] movements were initiated by women of color and queers of color within the United States. Indeed, reperiodizing anti-racist politics according to the emergence of those movements constituted by people of color who were marginalized by sexuality and gender allows us not only to observe the specificities of civil rights and national liberation movements but also to see how race and anti-racist politics were rearticulated in those very movements.” (Ferguson, 2012: p. 45).

Andrea Smith (2012) moves us in still another direction that links indigeneity, settler colonialism, and the uninterrogated terrain of white supremacy. In her article, she challenges the very racial theory framework that is used in Ethnic Studies and Native Studies programs. She agrees that “native peoples are treated as ethnic groups suffering from discrimination rather than as nations undergoing colonization, and that these two groups should get together to discuss that erroneous framework . at the same time because of this political and intellectual divide, there is little dialogue among them that would help us to understand how white supremacy and settler colonialism intersect, especially in the United States” (2012: p. 66). In this chapter, she argues that scholars’ lack of attention to settler colonialism hinders the analysis of race and white supremacy developed by scholars who focus on race. In the end, she focuses on ways that native scholars and practitioners can rearticulate their relationship with the land, and with the white power structure (2012: p. 88).

Where does one go from here? Future research should focus among other things on relationships among antiracist, women’s, anticolonial/anti-imperial, and labor-based/ antipoverty movements. There is also a powerful ‘intersectionality’ that exists on the political right (especially in the United States), where antifeminist, antilabor, ‘blame the victim’-oriented, homophobic, and ambiguously antiracist orientations operate and need to be interrogated. There is a need for more research that investigates the instability in practice of intersectional situations and social structures. For example, how do individuals and movements navigate among the raced, gendered, queer, class, and caste-based dimensions of social, cultural, and political life; what is the relationship between intersectionality and indignity; what are the elusive linkages among axes of identity and difference, and those between alliance and antagonism? There is also a continuous need for historical views of intersectionality both in the United States and transnationally. Even more fundamentally, what are the emerging contested views and definitions of intersectionality itself? Is intersectionality in both local and global contexts different? If so, how? How are intersectionality and postcolonialism connected, and what are the newly emerging theories around intersectionality and the politics of identity? Finally, theoretical frameworks and methodologies are needed that highlight micro–macro linkage problems and social movements in particular comparative and historical contexts.

Race and Racism beyond the Borders of the United States

For the past two decades, scholars in anthropology, sociology, and other fields have looked at issues of immigration, transnationalism, race and ethnicity, diasporic studies (Ong, 1999), and intersectionality through cross-cultural, transnational, and global lenses. The idea of race and the hierarchical institutionalization of racial difference emerged dialectically in relation to sixteenth-century economic transformations that ultimately created what is now known as ‘the modern West’ (Holt, 2002). While notions of difference operated prior to this period, the expulsion of Muslims from Europe, the initial European voyages of exploration and discovery, and the development of mercantile trade generated a novel situation whereby, for the first time, racialized labor became crucial to the mobilization of productive forces on a world scale (Holt, 2002: p. 32; Thomas and Clark, 2006). At the same time that the associations between nation building and imperialism and between racial slavery and the development of export-oriented mass agricultural production became more tightly integrated, new philosophical and scientific ideologies began to circulate in Europe about the nature of man. Within religious, philosophical, scientific, and political discourses, hierarchies of human value over time were mapped onto gendered, racial, and civilizational differences (Thomas and Clark, 2006; Goodman et al., 2012).

In this way, early state formation (in the old and new worlds) and mercantile capitalism inaugurated material and ideological processes that indelibly linked the ‘New World’ and the ‘Old’ in a common project of defining people in a commodified social hierarchy that was expressed in gendered racial and class terms. In other words, the development of a highly structured social and economic system in the New World is the direct result of Imperial conquest (by Europeans), plantation slavery, and structural racial domination. These new racialized processes also had an impact back home on metropolitan Europe as well. According to Gilroy (2002) and Thomas and Clark (2006), this formulation of the modern world conceptualizes the Atlantic Ocean as an integrated geohistorical unit in which the structural transformations associated with early European expansion westward created what ultimately became a triangular web of political, economic, and sociocultural relations joining individuals, communities, and classes on three continents in a single sphere of interaction (Thomas and Clark, 2006; Mullings, 2005; Mukhopadhyay et al., 2007).

Three Hundred Years and Counting

Imperialism, slavery, and colonial exploitation in the fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth centuries created enduring global linkages that were sustained through the post-emancipation period of the mid-nineteenth century and into the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. At the same time when the age of exploration was taking place in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, both science and religion colluded (sometimes consciously and sometimes not) as the two dominant discourses of colonialization and the institutionalization of a permanent racial hierarchy in the Americas, Africa, and South Asia. Advocates for slavery and colonial expansion helped to institutionalize the new science of anthropology, in part to counter Abolitionists’ claims based on morality and biblical tenets. As the discipline developed during the late nineteenth century, human difference was parsed along a color-coded hierarchy from savage to civilized – from black through brown, yellow, and red to white (Baker, 1998; Thomas and Clark, 2006; Goodman et al., 2012). The fact that some researchers documented customs and behaviors while others measured brains and bodies did not change this hierarchy because human diversity and cultural differences were blurred and racially mapped in a way that privileged biology as the basis for human difference, with those in power being male Europeans.

However, other changes were afoot in the early twentieth century as altered relationships between the means of production and local and global consumption that also had a hand in transforming racial meanings once again. The rise of resistance movements such as Garveyism and Pan-Africanism in the early twentieth century showed that racialized peoples, both laborers and intellectuals, were also helping to shape notions of their own identity as well as notions of where they belonged, both physically and metaphorically. While socioeconomic and political arrangements in the United States required that racialized labor forces remain fixed within the particular (material and ideological) places to which they were transported, by the middle of the twentieth century models of production and consumption instead relied upon a massive movement of these same labor forces out of their place, “from South to North in the United States, from colony to metropole in the British, French, Portuguese and Dutch West Indies, from country to city in southern and western Africa” (Holt, 2002: p. 70). This movement that was facilitated, in part, by the liberalization of US immigration laws in 1965, helped to generate a transnational wave of immigrants from homelands especially from the Caribbean, Latin America, and Asia, to new lands such as the United States, Europe, and Canada.

New Engagements of Race

By the mid-twentieth century, these changes in demographics helped to push the transformation of locally particular notions of difference into discourses of new meanings of race, ethnicity, and national descent. This reordering of human subjectivity in increasingly ethnic heritage terms follows structurally related shifts in the language of contemporary American racial organization particular to the post-1965 period. During this period, the intensification of civil rights discourses against discrimination generated new ideologies about racial/ethnic identities and racial difference. These changes also set the stage for the formation of other post-civil rights movements that focused on honoring new cultural traditions and heritages (women’s rights, gay rights, Native American rights, and Latino rights, just to name a few). In a commodified world, these new heritages, rather than becoming homogenized in an ‘American melting pot’ advertising discourse that stressed sameness, new marketing strategies were developed to exploit new lucrative racial and ethnic markets. The cultural formation of a new commercial politics of linkage between people in the Americas and those in related ‘homelands’ set the stage for the establishment of a heritage and identity category through which linkages to origins were used to supplement national identity and citizenship in the adopted country. In the social sphere, this emphasis on diasporic interconnection redefined prevalent notions of biological race to emphasize what came to be called by some researchers cultural race, shaped by new conceptions of ethnicity, or ancestral heritage (Mukhopadhyay et al., 2007; Thomas and Clark, 2006; Harrison, 2008). This notion of cultural race is also deeply rooted, not in biology but in a historical context.

During the 1980s through the 1990s, the rights discourse of the 1960s all but disappeared from the national political discourse in the United States. In other parts of the world, discourses of equality were also on the wane because states were less powerful in some locations, and in others, less willing to hold ‘equality’ as a value for all citizens. At the same time, the postcolonial context was one in which migration, movement, and the rise of a global media have created a situation in which as Winant has indicated “the nation-based dimensions of racial solidarity have atrophied” (Winant, 2000: p. 180). Today, no one can deny that race and racism currently exist in a world in which larger and larger percentages of national populations are illiterate, where the avenues for self-advancement have become increasingly limited, where remittances constitute ever greater percentages of developing countries’ gross domestic products, where sexual tourism and sex trafficking is on the rise (in the Inland Empire of Southern California as much as it is globally), where the availability of critical social services is on the decline in the United States and elsewhere, where a commitment to social equality becomes framed as anticapitalist by the conservatives and far right politics in the United States, and where an assertive call for global peace is seen as suspiciously unpatriotic. Global economic restructuring has thus resuscitated racialized and naturalized social stratification systems that are currently at work in such industries as banking, and the mortgage foreclosure industry here in the United States that has specifically targeted poor racialized populations to prey on.

New Globalization Research and Race

It has become commonplace to speak of the contemporary intensification of processes of globalization and the ways in which they are continually reconfiguring the structures of everyday life. While scholarly analyses of globalization have proliferated, and while there have been recent attempts within the social sciences to consider the articulations among ethnicity, gender, and sexuality within a global frame of analysis, race and processes of racialization are not usually considered central to academic discussions of global economic and political transformations. Yet, globalization is facilitated by the transmission and reproduction of deeply embedded social prejudices rooted in a past characterized by territorial concepts of identity that both generated and were generated by structural racial inequalities. As such, the contemporary twenty-first century redistribution of wealth has exacerbated historically entrenched racial hierarchies. In other words, racial formations dynamically reflect and shape global processes and are not merely effects of them. As a result, the complexity of contemporary global processes can never be fully grasped without a deep understanding of the historically specific and dynamic ways that race has both constituted and been constituted by global transformations. What is clearly critical, then, to a more complete understanding of contemporary global processes is an integrated analysis of the historical precedents of current circulations, of how imperialism and racial ordering have shaped global movements, and of the ways conceptualizations of identity, membership, and citizenship have been both constructed and institutionalized in racial terms (Mullings, 2005; Thomas and Clark, 2006).

Dismantling Structural Racism: The Unfinished Job

In some ways, this short research paper has only touched the surface of this topic of ‘race and racism’ as one looks at the unfinished business of exposing anew, and then eradicating structural racism. It is not enough for researchers to just reveal the breadth and depth of the social and cultural underpinnings of structural racism, and the power dynamics that operate to maintain this highly racialized and stratified social system in US society and elsewhere. One must do more. Sociologist Howard Winant reminds us that as we talk about the issue of ‘post-racialism’ in the United States to remember that some of the incorporative concepts of racial difference tend to actually validate the very identities they purport to question. Rather than serving as catalysts for truly new racial formations they actually “reinforce the racialized social structures such as comprehensive racial stratification, discrimination, xenophobia, etc. that they so loudly repudiate” (Winant, 2001: p. xix).

The author suggests that much more critical research and praxis work still needs to be done in key areas such as looking for new intersections in addition to mining more deeply the intersectionality of race, class, and gender; researching race, migration, and immigration both locally and globally; continued research on the validity of the claim of reverse discrimination by Euro-Americans (especially in the United States); researching the contradictions of claims of ‘colorblindness’ in the ubiquitous presence of conversations about race; conducting a deeper and more critical analysis of the continuing educational, housing, and health disparities along axis of race, ethnic, and class lines; researching the impact of national, regional, and state demographic changes and race; continued research and study of whiteness and power from the inside out; more research on the links between race and globalization studies; and more research on the relationship of race, gender, and human rights, just to name a few.

Conclusion

Race is about power relations, and continues to be an ideology to legitimize the dominance of certain groups. Race and its consequence racism are fundamentally part of a global system of structural racial stratification and inequality. People indoctrinated in US individualism often have difficulty understanding abstract notions of a social system, social stratification, and how one’s social position impacts individual experience and opportunities. For example, fluctuations in racial categorization and definitions of ‘whiteness’ reflect demands for population growth set against a backdrop of powerful elites seeking to maintain a system of social stratification and cultural dominance. The US race-based system of social classification became a way of maintaining the dominance of elite ‘white’ groups, politically and socially, while simultaneously recruiting new populations. Race became a central basis for organizing labor and maintaining an economically stratified system, first in the agricultural sector and now in the growing industrial and postindustrial sectors. Racializing the labor force helped to mask the pervasive class stratification and structural inequality that has always characterized American life. The North American system of racial classification is most accurately viewed as a historically and culturally specific ‘legitimizing ideology,’ a complex and unique way for explaining, justifying, and perpetuating a system of social, economic, and political inequality. But these racial meanings were also contested in the past and will continue to be contested (Mukhopadhyay et al., 2007; Omi and Winant, 2012).

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See also:

Sociology Research Paper Topics

Sociology Research Paper

Racism Research Paper

#Racism Research Paper